127 HOURS                                   Written by                                                   Simon Beaufoy & Danny Boyle                                   EXT. CROWD SCENES. VARIOUS.          A massive crowd, it could be a sports stadium, a u2 farewell          show or new year's eve on copacabana beach, but whatever it          is there are thousands and thousands of us. A mexican wave          erupts success, celebration, with so many involved it's          impossible to pick out anyone individually. Critical mass          cyclists, easter crowds at st. Peter's basilica, nyc          marathon, 4,000 flash mobbers doing the silent disco at          london's victoria station, india's kumbh mela, macy's          thanksgiving day parade, raves, subway parties, the daytona          500. . . . Gradually the screen splits into 2, and then 3,          though at times there appears to be no division at all.                                                             EXT. FREEWAY. NIGHT.          An overhead shot of a crammed freeway gives way to a single          vehicle, a 98 Toyota Tacoma, red and white with a topper.                          CUT TO:                                                            INT. ARON'S TRUCK. NIGHT.                                   Cut inside as Aron Ralston, 27 cuts off the freeway.                                   TRIPTYCH.                                                            OPENING TITLES ARE A SERIES OF TRIPTYCHS FEATURING ALL THE          TITLE CARDS EXCEPT THE MAIN ONE. THEY BLEND, OVERLAP AND ARE          INTERCUT WITH ADVERTS SOME FROM THE BILLBOARDS ARON'S VAN          PASSES, SOME FROM TELEVISION AND SOME FROM THE RADIO. AND,          OF COURSE, ALL THESE INTERCUT WITH ARON AND HIS TRUCK. AND          THE LANDSCAPE.                                   A TITLE CARD READS:          'Utah. The Canyonlands. The slickrock desert. The red dust          and the burnt cliffs and the lonely sky-all that which lies          beyond the end of the roads.'                                   Edward Abbey. Desert Solitaire.                          CUT TO:                                   EXT. ROAD. NIGHT.                                   Eventually Aron's truck is now alone on an interstate road.           2.                                                            INT. ARON'S TRUCK. NIGHT.          At the southwest edge of Green River, Aron Ralston drives          under the interstate into a landscape of obscurity. He looks          to his right and left, not a single light perforates the          absolute blackness of the San Rafael Desert.                                                   CUT TO:          EXT. ARON'S TRUCK. NIGHT.          From high above, three quarters of the screen is black and we          see his truck's lights running parallel with the blackness.                          CUT TO:                                   INT. ARON'S TRUCK. NIGHT.          A sign flashes by: Next Service: 110 miles          America's challengers for the Tour de France flash by in a          pack of 15 or so neon spirits. Night training.          10PM.                                   A BLM sign indicates that Horseshoe Canyon Trailhead is 47          miles ahead through the desert darkness.                          CUT TO:                                   EXT:. ARON'S TRUCK. NIGHT.          From even higher above again we see him turn left into this          black void.                                                   CUT TO:                                                            INT. ARON'S TRUCK. NIGHT.          Bang inside the truck now on a dirt road. Music at ear bleed          level.                                   A yellow triangular sign cautioning ROADS MAY BE IMPASSABLE          DUE TO STORMS flashes past.                          CUT TO:          INT/EXT. ARON'S TRUCK. NIGHT.                                   Jackrabbits dart onto the road, racing him, darting left and          right as he chases them down. They finish the game darting          back into the darkness.                          CUT TO:                                   EXT. DESERT. DAY.           3.                                                            Slowly, images from the Great Gallery materialise on          different parts of the Triptych - petroglyphs and          pictographs; dozens of 8-10 ft high Superhumans hovering over          groups of indistinct animals, dominating beasts and onlookers          alike with their long, dark bodies, broad shoulders, and          haunting eyes.                                                   CUT TO:          EXT/INT. VARIOUS. COMMERCIALS FOOTAGE.          Billboards, TV, cinema, www: commercial America sells          everything to us through every means. As many brand names as          we can get.                                                   CUT TO:          EXT. DESERT. NIGHT.          Rushing across the desert grooves, pulling, snatching, hard          left and right, the rear of the truck fishtails madly.          Curves, swoops and sandy washes kick up dust clouds as          everything in the truck flies all over the place. Except his          bike, locked down and braced solid.                                   Music blazes on.          Another Rabbit. Another fence line. Another curve.                          CUT TO:                                   INT. ARON'S TRUCK. NIGHT.          Suddenly a small brown sign flashes past. He kicks down on          the brakes and reverses back. It's the sign pointing out the          road spur to Horseshoe and Blue John Canyons.                          ARON           Nearly missed it!                          CUT TO:          EXT. HIGH ABOVE ARON'S TRUCK. NIGHT.          The truck turns sharp left.                          CUT TO:          INT. ARON'S TRUCK. NIGHT.                                   Now a really bumpy road approaching the dirt parking area.                          CUT TO:           4.                                                            EXT. PARKING AREA. NIGHT.          Ghostly, but there are three other vehicles and two          encampments at the Trailhead, despite signs prohibiting          camping.                          CUT TO:                                   INT. ARON'S TRUCK. NIGHT.          He turns off the music and waits for a head to pop out or a          light to come on but they have all turned in. Ghostly.          He glides to a flat spot near the sign board welcoming          visitors to the Horseshoe Canyon quadrant of Canyonlands          National Park.          He whips into the back of the truck and flings everything out          of the way of his sleeping bag and pad. Black.          END OF TRIPTYCH TITLE SEQUENCE.                                                   CUT TO:          BLACK.                                   But no rest.                          CUT TO:                                                            INT. ARON'S TRUCK. DAY.          The doors smash open to reveal a glorious day and Aron's          bike careers into it.                          CUT TO:                                   EXT. DESERT. VARIOUS.          It's still like a wild road movie, but now on a bicycle.          Having parked his motorized transport he ploughs into the          land like an ad for extreme sports. Past bikers, he vanishes          temporarily in their dust cloud, he wears a bandana across          his face as the bikers pass by... a final telephone box, past          remnants of those who tried to settle or work this          unforgiving land; Aborigines, frontier settlers, ranchers...          all driven away from a heartland he ploughs into.......                          CUT TO:           5.                                                            EXT. DESERT. CU on ARON.          Wearing a pair of beat-up running shoes and thick wool-blend          socks, Lycra biking shorts and a Phish tee shirt he has a          back pack with equipment but hydrates through a gallon of          water stored in an insulated three litre CamelBak hydration          pouch which he sucks on without stopping.                                                   CUT TO:                                   EXT. DESERT. DAY.          His bike pummels the canyon landscape and you get a sense of          the exhilaration this man gets from pitting himself alone          against what nature can offer. He's clearly a fit and daring          young man and these are his kicks.                          CUT TO:                                                            EXT. DESERT. DAY.          Even uphill he hammers his way up the sandstone. Gasping for          oxygen, his legs screaming for rest, he pushes and pushes          until the crest and then down, down, instant speed and he can          suck on his water again. Part of a massive clan who define          themselves not by what they are, but by what they do. In a          way, he's an action movie personified and the opening should          be shot and cut to provide adrenaline in spadefuls.                                   Until...                          CUT TO:                                                            EXT. DESERT. DAY.                                   Suddenly, he hits a sand trap and hurtles forward over the          handle bars, face first into the sand, his toe clips and          momentum brings the bike with him. The bike has him trapped          on the desert floor like a takedown in wrestling. He submits,          landing nose deep in the sand. He sits up, looks around          quickly to see if anyone saw. Pulls out his camera from his          bag and takes a a self-portrait snap of the mess.                          CUT TO:                                                            EXT. DESERT. DAY.          At what seems like the only tree for miles he U-locks his          bike in the shade, pockets the keys, scoffs a muffin and          heads off into the desert.                          CUT TO:           6.                                                            EXT. GULLEY CREST. DAY.          He approaches the crest of a sand gulley and sees below him,          just 30 yards down the canyon, 2 fellow hikers. He looks          around. All of them in the middle of nowhere it seems.                          CUT TO:                                   EXT. APPROACH TO BLUE JOHN CANYON. DAY.          He can see now it's 2 girls passing a map back and forth          between them. He rushes towards them, initially above them as          he walks along side. They're aware of him before he arrives:                          ARON           Hey. Are you doing the east pike?           Can I come along with you for a           while?          The girls don't reply, just look at each other.                                                   ARON (CONT'D)           I'm on my own. I'm Aron.                          CUT TO:                                   EXT. APPROACH TO BLUE JOHN CANYON. DAY. A VAST ARROYO.          He slides/surfs down so he's on the same level as them,          arriving in a haze of dust, holding out his hand for the          shake. Big smile.                          KRISTI           (looking at Megan)           Sure, I'm Kristi.                          MEGAN           Megan.                          ARON           Nice to meet you. What a day.                          KRISTI           It's beautiful.                          ARON           Did you bike or come straight from           the trail head?                          KRISTI           We left the car there. Pretty           quiet.                          ARON           I left mine at the Horseshoe Canyon           and biked here.           7.                                                                            MEGAN           You biked from Horseshoe? That's           20 miles or more.                          ARON           17 and windy.                                   The girls exchange glances.                          ARON (CONT'D)           I do this a lot.          They laugh. He's crazy, but harmless.                          ARON (CONT'D)           Wasn't expecting to see anyone in           the canyon today.                          MEGAN           Yeah, you surprised us, sneaking up           like that.                                                   ARON           Sorry.                                                   MEGAN           It's kind of nervy seeing a lone           guy walking up to you in the middle           of the desert.                                                   ARON           Yeah, I know, I mean there's no one           around for 50 miles.                                                   KRISTI           ... and suddenly there's a guy           right behind you and `wait a           minute, why is he wearing a HOCKEY           MASK!'          They all laugh.                          ARON           Let me guess... You're here for           the paintings or the Cathedral?                          KRISTI           The Cathedral? We've got a bit           disorientated and the map isn't           great. Where is it?                          ARON           The climb's a little tricky but           it's worth it.                          KRISTI / MEGAN           We climb.           8.                                                            They all laugh.                          CUT TO:                                   INT. CAVE. APPARENTLY SMOOTH DOME. DAY                                   Towards us comes Aron, upside down, like a tiny, fast spider,          talking all the time, his voice echoing.                          ARON           There's thousands of holds but you           can't see them until you're almost           upside down and then they just keep           appearing... it's a bit of a act of           faith so I'll go first... take off           as much as you dare as there's a           bit of a surprise at the other           end...           MEGAN (O.S.)           You behave Aron Ralston or we'll           tell your mother all about where           you lure girls...                                                   ARON           I swear I won't look but I swear           you won't care when you get out           here...                                   We've been moving towards him as he rushes towards us, spider          style. He's stripped to his underwear. He's lithe to say          the least. We can't see the girls or what's underneath us          but there's a feeling of the vertiginous, as much from the          weird echo and the sense of reflected light as from the scale          of the dome.                          ARON (CONT'D)           ... and the thing is, when you get           to the middle...          He lets go.                                                   ARON (CONT'D)           ... there aren't any more.          We spin and watch him fall into the most exquisite emerald          pool 60 feet below.                          KRISTI           OMG!                          CUT TO:          INT. CAVE. DAY.                                   They can't see him. They can only hear the explosive crack          of man on water.           9.                                                                            MEGAN           Are you ok? ARON!                          KRISTI           Of course he's ok. Listen to him.          Aron fills the cathedral dome with his version of a Phish          song at the top of his voice. Kristi strips to her underwear          and traverses away from Megan.                          KRISTI (CONT'D)           Got to be there, Meg.                          CUT TO:                                   INT. CAVE. DAY.          From the pool below with Aron we see Kristi in her underwear          heading out arachnid-style to the centre. Before she gets          there Megan appears too. She's left everything on except her          shoes.                                   They crash into the pool one after the other. They bob          together in the centre, the light seems to come from beneath          them and ripple over the heavenly ceiling.                                                   MEGAN           We've got to go again. And film           it!                                                   CUT TO:                                   EXT. OUTSIDE THE CAVE. DAY (LATER).                                   Eating and drying in the powerful afternoon sun. A little          self consciousness has returned but it's sweet-natured and          fun still.....                          MEGAN           I really can't eat all this           chocolate by myself... Never mind,           yes I can!                          KRISTI           So have you got a girlfriend, Aron?                          ARON           Well, there's not really anyone           special.                          MEGAN           Ah, so there's lots of girlfriends.                          KRISTI           There's always a girl, you just           don't know it yet.           10.                                                                            MEGAN           Yeah, we meet lots of guys and           there's always a girl.                          ARON           Long story.                                                   KRISTI           With lots of characters in it.                          CUT TO:                                   EXT. SNOWY MOUNTAINTOP. DAY. VIDEO FOOTAGE.                                   Aron on top of a snowy peak. Self shot. Classic pose.          Breathtaking backdrop.           ARON (V.O.)           I've done 46 of the 59 winter solo           ascents.                                                   MEGAN           Wow, highest person in Colorado.                                                   ARON           Well I figure no one else is mad           enough to climb in the winter.                          KRISTI           ... you can be the highest person           on the continent!                          CUT TO:                                                            EXT. STILL CAMERA. IMAGE OF `MOTEL 6'                                   Megan shows the image to Aron.                          MEGAN           Didn't you see it?                                                   ARON           What? No.                          MEGAN           Yeah, it's an old cattle guardian's           house - the roof's caved in and           someone spray-painted MOTEL 6 on           the side. Smelled weird though.                          ARON           Just like a MOTEL 6 then?                          CUT TO:           11.                                                            EXT. OUTSIDE THE CAVE.                          KRISTI           Why are you on your own?                          ARON           Solitude. Great tunes. Empty           mind.          He indicates the wilderness.                          ARON (CONT'D)           And I can sing Phish songs as loud           as I like.                                                   MEGAN           Phish?                          KRISTI           Not those guys from...                                                   ARON           Yeah, I know, I know.                          (LAUGHS)           See, that's why I'm on my own.           Nobody likes me or my band.          They laugh as he goofs for them. He gathers all their          packaging and stuffs it in his backpack.                                                   ARON (CONT'D)           I'll get this. Leave no trace.                          CUT TO:                                   EXT. BLUE JOHN CANYON. DAY.          They're walking again.                          ARON (CONT'D)           Hey, but I like a beer like the           next man. You know, end of the day.                                                   CUT TO:                                   EXT. CANYON. GULLEY.          They're negotiating a steep gulley. Aron is 1/2 way down,          Megan at the top, Kristi on her way down to him.                          ARON           I'm not certified yet but that's           what I want to do.                          MEGAN           An illegal instructor.           12.                                                                            ARON           It's hard to get the hours to           qualify. Catch 22.                          KRISTI           Well, we'll sign your time-card           today.                                                   ARON           Great. Now put your ass on my head.                          KRISTI           Okay but don't look and no grabbing           now, if I do...                                                   MEGAN           Oh whatever, you love it.                          KRISTI           Shhh!                                   Aron then quickly slips to the bottom. Megan is way high,          Kristi half way.                          ARON           (at his most instructor-           ish, talking all the time           as he makes his way down)           You'll have to chimney down a           little ways - like here, watch -           one foot on each wall then squat           onto your right heel, now your           butt's on the wall, so you can move           your right foot across, now put           your left foot under your butt           lower down and scootch your butt           down - watch that black part, it's           slick, slime, try not to get it on           your shoes - if you can get to           these bomber handholds here it's           like an elevator shaft and just           think friction to control the           slide. This is a keeper so always           have someone at the bottom to boost           you out.          He looks up to them.                          MEGAN           I didn't understand any of that.                                   EXT. CONJUNCTION OF BLUE JOHN CANYON, WEST FORK, EAST FORK.          LATER IN THE DAY. 2PM-ISH          They come to a clear fork in the paths. He watches them turn          their map round and round.           13.                                                                            MEGAN (CONT'D)           Kristi, I think this is our way           back.                          ARON           Why don't you come with me to the           Big Drop Rappel? I can give you a           lift back to your car.                          KRISTI           How far is it?          He shows them on the map.                          ARON           About another 8 miles or so, I           think.                          MEGAN           You'll never get out before dark.                                                   ARON           No, I really got to do this. Anyway           I've my miner's lamp.                                                   MEGAN           You don't climb at night, do you?                          ARON           No, it's great for seeing snakes in           hand holds. Can I get a picture           then?          They pose with raven feathers in their hair.                                                   ARON (CONT'D)           Listen, my friends are having a           party tomorrow night. You should           come.                          KRISTI           Yeah, we'd like that. What time?                                                   MEGAN           Where?                          ARON           Drive on the east road and about 40           miles out there's a huge inflatable           Scooby Doo. You can't miss it.           Turn off and it's about 2 miles           down that track. Starts late and           it'll go right thru.          Lots of cheek kissing and his last picture of them...           14.                                                                            KRISTI           Come on Aron, hike out with us -           we'll go get your truck, hang out           and have a beer.                          ARON           No, I really got to do this.                                                   KRISTI           Okay. Scooby Doo, yeah?                          ARON           That's the one. I'll have 3 cold           beers waiting for us.                                                   MEGAN           12 cold beers!                          CUT TO:          EXT. CANYON FORK. DAY. POV VARIOUS.                                   And they separate down 2 different canyons shouting to each          other...'hot dogs!...'vegetarian hot dogs!'.... 'so that's 12          cold beers and 9 vegetarian hotdogs!'...'.. I really can't          eat all these vegetarian hotdogs by myself... never mind, yes          I can!'... the last of the dialogue fading away as they lose          earshot of each other and we pull up out high over the          meandering slits of sandstone...                                                   CUT TO:                                   EXT. MAIN BLUE JOHN CANYON. DAY.                                   Aron alone ... they are gone ... he picks up the pace as he          checks his watch... he loved them but now he's behind          schedule and he's ruthless about his schedule...                          CUT TO:          EXT. HIGH ABOVE ARON. BLUE JOHN CANYON. DAY.                                   His sense of momentum is established again and it's clear          he's moving downhill, into the fissure of the rock.                          CUT TO:                                                            EXT. BLUE JOHN CANYON. DAY.          Without warning his feet suddenly slide forward from under          him and he skates/snap-kicks trying to keep his balance on a          floor of scattering pebbles left there by a flood. There's a          flash of the sky and dazzling sunlight.           15.                                                            Only his arms and the proximity now of the walls prevent him          landing hard on his ass.                          CUT TO:          EXT. C/U. DAY.                                   A small snake slithers away from his giant feet.                          CUT TO:                                   EXT. BLUE JOHN CANYON. DAY.                          ARON           Easy Aron, easy now.          He keeps moving, descending still, but a little more          circumspect. He lets the change of pace allow him to whip          round his pack and with the practice of thousands of times          selects and plays a CD without stopping, slipping the          headphones over his head.                          CUT TO:                                   INT. RUCKSACK. PORTABLE CD PLAYER.          We see the CD begin to spin: the display tells us there's          38:47 to play before 0:01 appears.                                                   CUT TO:                                   EXT. C/U ARON'S EARS. DAY.                                   Suddenly, louder than loud, the sound of fanatical 5,000          strong applause at the Phish live concert in Las Vegas, fills          his head and ours.          He's heard it many times as he alternatively          anticipates/answers all the dialogue preamble mixed over the          applause...                                                   CD RECORDING           Good evening Las Vegas... are you           having a good time? Are you ready           for PHISH!          Whether we are or not, the first song begins on a wave of          adoration from his fellow Phish fans. He sings along.                          CUT TO:           16.                                                            EXT. BLUE JOHN CANYON. SHORT SLOT ENTRY. DAY.          Aron keeps descending, the canyon walls growing taller and          closer, into the narrowing slot canyon.                          CUT TO:                                                            EXT. BLUE JOHN CANYON. S-SHAPED LOG. DAY.          A dry waterfall, many months since it's seen rain. A drop of          maybe 12/15 ft with no obvious climb down. Way beyond his          reach and jammed into the walls of the canyon is an enormous          S-shaped log, sand bleached and wind dried it looks like a          massive reptile making its way down the canyon. Beyond it,          Aron can see his route down disappearing into narrowing          darkness.                          CUT TO:                                                            EXT. CANYON WALL. DAY.          To reduce the drop he scrambles down clinging to the edge,          pushes away and drops the final 6 feet or so landing in a          fine cloud of sand. Nothing to it, second nature.                          CUT TO:          EXT. S-SHAPED LOG. DAY.                                                  PHOTOTIME          He snaps the log now arching above him well out of reach.                                   TITLE.          " 2:41pm. Sat April 26th. 2003 "                          ARON           Won't be coming back this way.                          CUT TO:                                   INT. SLOT CANYON. DAY (NOTE: FROM HERE ON CANYON SHOTS INT.)                                   He spins and continues, seeing the first huge chockstones,          the size of vans, their noses buried in the floor of the          canyon like unexploded bombs. He easily scrambles over one          and around another-tight fit but he's skinny.                          CUT TO:           17.                                                            INT. DEEPER INTO THE CANYON. DAY.          The slot is now just 4ft wide and as he stops to look at          massive tree logs jammed at strange angles high above him and          silhouetted against the blue cloudless sky, he drinks deeply          from his water bottle.                                                   CUT TO:                                   INT. CANYON RIM. LOOKING DOWN. DAY.          On we go and so does the concert. He pumps the air unaware          as we track above him - it's like the canyon in Star Wars and          he's Anakin feeling the force. One set of chockstones leads          to another and he rapidly negotiates them like an obstacle          race - until there's one the size of a big refrigerator which          has been stopped by the walls 18 inches from the floor.                          CUT TO:                                                            INT. CANYON. CHOCKSTONES. DAY.          Over or under? He drops to his belly and squeezes          underneath, rucking the sandy floor in front of him. He's          halfway, his chest rising out the far side when suddenly he          can't move. The music jams and loops on 2 notes like bad          techno. He pushes but nothing.                                   He reaches back with his hand and releases a part of his          rucksack strap that's snagged. And the music releases too.          He squat-jumps out and brushes off the sand.                                   No panic -a nothing moment.                          CUT TO:                                   INT. SLOT CANYON. DAY.          Now it's steeper. We're already 60ft below ground level and          it's falling away further in front of us. Another drink and          the map is out.                          CUT TO:                                   INT/EXT. SILHOUETTE PROFILE. CROSS SECTION OF CANYON. DAY.                                   We see a section of the canyon and the tiny figure of Aron          moving within it. We track in and elide into a graphic view          of him chimneying his way along the canyon now only 3 ft wide          at most. It's a chance to see his skill and thirst for          climbing. And to see how deep he's going.           18.                                                            He uses his legs, back and natural body weight to body walk          along and down the towering walls.                          CUT TO:                                   INT. SLOT CANYON. DAY.                                   He's moving towards a final chockstone below him jammed in          the gap. You can see the way he's thinking: it's about the          size of a bus wheel and used as a platform will help him          reduce the 10 foot drop and get quickly down into the next          section.                          CUT TO:                                                            INT. SLOT CANYON. DAY.          He reaches it at the same time we do and kicks fiercely,          automatically, to make sure it's solid.                                                   ARON           Yep.                                   And across he steps onto it. It holds.                          CUT TO:                                                            INT. CANYON FROM UNDERNEATH SILHOUETTED AGAINST SKY. DAY.          As before he squats and clambers down the back side of the          stone to reduce his drop down.                                                   CUT TO:                                                            INT. CANYON. DAY. C/U TIGHT ON ARON.          Just as he dangles there's a scraping sound, small but close,          too close and the stone judders towards him, pulled by the          torque of his weight on his side, rotating.          Instantly and instinctively he lets go and drops. Like he's          trying to detach a mine dragging him to the sea floor.                                                   CUT TO:                                   INT. CANYON. ON CHOCKSTONE. DAY.          But it follows him down, somehow he's released its latent          energy.                          CUT TO:           19.                                                            INT. CANYON. TIGHTER ON ARON. DAY.          He watches the chockstone follow him - not looking where he's          going.                          CUT TO:                                                            INT. CANYON. ARON'S POV. DAY.          The backlit chockstone falling towards him consuming the sky.                          CUT TO:                                                            INT. SLOT CANYON. DAY.          His arms rise to protect his head but his eyes remain open          and through his fingers we see the next 3 seconds. The rock's          face and his.                                   It grabs his left hand and flings it against the left wall.          He pulls it away as the rock ricochets against the canyon and          careers towards his right arm which he raises, to compensate          for withdrawing the left, and to protect his head.                                   The rock smashes the right hand and wrist against the wall          and drags it down the remaining distance. Like a cheese          grater it tears the skin from the back of the hand and the          forearm, decorating the wall. Aron is powerless to stop its          force and he lands on his feet allowing the rock to jam in          front of him with his hand held against the canyon wall by          the stone.                                   All this happens too quickly. We can hardly register what's          happened as everything stops.                          CUT TO:                                                            INT. CANYON FLOOR. DAY.          Silence. He's standing behind the rock. Like he's in a line          for a bus. Like he's shaking someone's hand. A hand shake          with the canyon. Silence.                          CUT TO:                                                                           TITLE:                                                   127HOURS                          CUT TO:           20.                                                            INT. CANYON FLOOR. DAY.          Adrenaline, searing, roaring pain and panic.                          ARON           FUCK, get your hand out of there!                                   Pulls and pulls, yanks until his shoulder will dislocate, but          nothing moves. Sweat, anxiety flaring, hot pain.                          ARON (CONT'D)           SHIT, SHIT, SHIT, SHIT...          Pushing with his left hand desperate to reverse the action;          so simple to undo the moment, to reverse gravity for a split          second and pull his hand out... nothing. Again and again          thrusting up with knees, thighs, pelvis, left arm, head,          neck... nothing.                          CUT TO:                                                            INT. CANYON FLOOR. DAY.          Then slam upwards, harder than ever as though he's run at it          from a hundred yards and it's a door that will surely burst          open.                          ARON           YEEARKGG... UNNNHHH                                   Air exploding out of his lungs. And then a quiet hollow          sound of the boulder shifting fractionally. A howl of          phenomenal pain -                                                   ARON (CONT'D)           NO, NO, NO, NO, FUCK.                                   He reverses the fraction and collapses in sweat and blood,          knees bleeding, good fingers lacerated. But he remains          upright, attached. Unable to physically collapse.          Grabs his shirt and wipes sweat away and goes to drink. He          hula-hoops out of his backpack to get access to the water,          gulps down 3 full throatfulls - stops mid 4th and backwashes          as much as he can into the bottle -                                                   ARON (CONT'D)           No, no... more water.                                   He caps the lid tightly and drops it into his pack.                          ARON (CONT'D)           Relax. Stop. Come on.          He breathes and breathes, taking stock for the 1st time.                                                   CUT TO:           21.                                                            C/U: WRISTWATCH          Time Check. 3.14pm. Stares at it until it changes to 3.15pm          - the watch is working.                          CUT TO:                                                            INT. CANYON FLOOR. DAY.          He examines the boulder at each point he can reach,          stretching and contorting to see into his crushed and          wretched hand where his thumb is visible above and his little          finger below. No matter how much he touches them, there is          no feeling. He prods up and down to see what feeling is left          and where it stops. Comparing left hand to where the right          hand is trapped to measure the width of his right wrist - now          smaller than the width of his little finger on his right          hand. He can barely get the little finger of his left hand in          the gap. We reverse back on him at each contortion. He                         REALIZES -                                                   ARON           FUCK! What the fuck? How the fuck           did you get your hand trapped by a           fucking boulder? Its crushed, it's           fucking dying man!          He reaches up and touches the trail of blood, hair and skin          left on the canyon wall as the rock pushed him to where he          is. Looks under boulder, no blood - check.          [He hears the crowd cheering on his headphones. It's been          playing throughout. He switches it off]                                   He looks above for the first time.                          ARON (CONT'D)           HELP! HELLO!                          CUT TO:          INT/EXT. PULL OUT OF CANYON. DAY.          ... to see the slot canyon, back and back and back, nothing          more than a dry crack in the surface of this massive land.          Gradually his cries for help become inaudible.                          CUT TO:                                                            INT. CANYON FLOOR. DAY.          He unpacks everything with great energy, like a stocktake,          and lays it all out on the surface of the rock;           22.                                                            chocolate bar wrappers and bakery bag with crumbs of          chocolate muffin inside that he volunteered to take away on          behalf of the girls, 2 small bean burritos, cd player, cds ,          extra AA batteries, mini digital video camcorder, small multi-          use tool and 3 LED headlamp.                          CUT TO:                                                            BIG C/U: VARIOUS.          ... of all these elements - these are now his only companions          and their POV of him reflects that as he tests each one for          its potential, opening all the blades and laying them out to          look at them; sunglasses - scratched, bike Ulok key, rock          climbing harness, cloth goggles bag, rapelling equipment,          water bottle, car keys, plastic grocery bag, empty de-          hydration pack, money, credit cards, green and yellow          climbing rope in black zippers bag, a stick, stones and sand.          Everything.                                                                                     Pause. He stares at it all and it all stares back at him.                                                   CUT TO:                                   C/U: DIGITAL NUMERALS.                                   3.28, changes to 3.29           HARD ENERGY CUT                          TO:                                                            INT. CANYON FLOOR. DAY.                                   Inside the tiny gap we see... his headlamp flick on to let          him assess the rock and the wall and his hand in between it.          He picks a point and begins to chip away with the knife.          He's back - energy, movement, purpose, action makes him          happy. He occasionally stops to look at his left hand,          swollen and puffy and constantly in need of flexing. He gets          into a rhythm of 'tick,tick,tick', flex and back again,          `tick,tick,tick'                                                   CUT TO:                                   TIGHTER C/U: DIGITAL NUMERALS.          4.19pm, changes to 4.20                          CUT TO:           23.                                                            INT. CANYON FLOOR. DAY.          In a huge close up of this eye he can see in the foreground          that there's a pile of steel filings from the knife itself,          almost as big as the dust from the ground -                          ARON           Not good.          He blows the whole lot into our face with a mighty gust.                          ARON (CONT'D)           When in a hole....          Alternative; he starts digging away at the wall instead, same          result.                          ARON (CONT'D)           Fuck. It's hard as iron.          Pause.                                    You're gonna have to cut your arm           off.                                   As if to answer that idea we...                          CUT TO:                                                            INT. CANYON FLOOR. DAY.          Tapping a rock in his hand onto the top of the knife as he          balances it against the wall or with his mouth. Weird close          angles as he almost taps the side of his eye socket.          Suddenly, he hammers down with ten times more force onto the          handle of the knife, the rock explodes in his hand, showering          pick dust over everything, and bouncing the knife off the          rock. Once again, gravity takes over. The knife hits his          shorts and as he moves to grab it, he misses it and knocks it          further round the back of his leg. He pivots and turns to try          and catch it but gravity is quicker than his restricted twist          and it falls into a hole between the rounded rocks near his          left foot -                          ARON           NO, NO!                          CUT TO:                                   INT. CANYON FLOOR. DAY.          The knife is visible in the crack below and behind his right          leg but he can't twist to get anywhere near it. He tries to          pull the canyon wall off balance to get closer. No chance.           24.                                                                            ARON           Shit!                                                            He pulls off his right sock and shoe and tries to squeeze his          foot into the hole. Too big. Size 10. He looks upward. He          can't believe he's done it.                          ARON (CONT'D)           Shit!!!                          CUT TO:                                                            INT. BENEATH CANYON FLOOR.          We're on a level with the knife in the little hole beneath          his feet. An enormous overhead light switches on (Aron's          headlamp placed above to let him see). The stick enters from          top of screen and nudges the knife in a semi circle. It's a          bit Punch and Judy if it wasn't so fucking serious. Huge          shadows. No success. The knife remains where it is. Maybe an          ant races across it.                                   Pause.          The stick withdraws.                                                                                                    PAUSE:                                                                                     The stick re-enters with the top of it almost broken off,          acting like a hook, we push in on the knife as the stick          hooks through the little ring at the end of the knife. It          lifts.                          CUT TO:                                   INT. ARON IN CANYON. DAY.          Looking down onto the ground, around his leg, his toes          holding the stick like a chopstick lift the knife out and up          tremulously, breathlessly, towards his good arm. He picks it          off the stick gently. Big smile. First one.                                                   ARON           Sweet.                          CUT TO:           25.                                                            TITLE OVER WIDE INT CANYON. NIGHT:                         " SATURDAY NIGHT ":          We pass through the transparent title on our way along the          canyon. Half dark. We're on a wind blowing dust through the          canyon walls, to find a miner in the distance digging into          the rock. It's Aron of course, and his head-lamp is filled          with the dust swirling through. He's using the shorter file          from the multi tool and has tied a shoe lace to his wrist and          looped through the ring at the end of the tool. He pulls his          cap down, to keep most of the dust out of his eyes. His lips          are caked but he keeps blowing on his arm, to keep it clear.                          CUT TO:                                                            C/U: DIGITAL NUMERALS. NIGHT.          The watch, now luminous, changes to 00.00.                                                   CUT TO:                                   INT. ARON IN CANYON. NIGHT.                                   Midnight is celebrated with a tiny, careful, sip of the          water. He holds it in his mouth. Puffing his cheeks,          circulating the precious fluid around.                                                   CUT TO:                                   EXT. EXTRAORDINARY LANDSCAPE. DAZZLING DAYLIGHT. DAY.                                   Daylight, a lunar landscape almost, though with patches of          green and giant boulders, Aron whom we sense only by being          around his shoulder is out walking with his friend, Mark Von          Eeckhout through this field of boulders. They come upon one          the size of a house buried nose deep in the field.                                                                                                     MARK           Wow, look at the size of this one.          There's no cliffs or mountains anywhere near. We look at          Mark's pleasant, unremarkable face for far too long as he          looks around -                                                   MARK (CONT'D)           How the fuck did this get there?          It's like we're on the moon looking over Buzz Aldrin's          shoulder at Neil Armstrong; it certainly sounds like that...                                    HARD CUT TO:           26.                                                            INT. CANYON FLOOR. NIGHT.          Chip,chip,chip; stretches his arm, flexes his legs,          tick,tick,tick. He changes the blade, prising suddenly at a          section of the rock with his file. It bites and a dime size          shred chip of rock arcs through the night light. He catches          it perfectly on his right elbow.                                                   ARON           Cool.          He picks it off his arm and places it on top of the rock next          to where he's working. It's a grain of sand on the seashore          but it's something.                                   Boy, his arm and his legs are aching now.                          CUT TO:                                   INT. ABOVE ARON, LOOKING DOWN INTO CANYON. NIGHT.                                   He's stepped into his harness and is throwing 30ft of rope up          towards us. There's a tangle of knots and carabiners looking          for purchase close to camera. Each time it falls back all          the way. He persists, each time, varying his line of attack          fractionally.          Finally it catches.                                   He pulls gently at first, then fiercely, it holds and we          slide softly and slowly down the rope and as we reach him he          gently takes the weight off his feet finally.                                                   ARON           Aahhhhh.                                                            Lovely relief for him, light off, his eyes close.                          CUT TO:                                                            INT/EXT VARIOUS. DAY.          A re-run of the accident. He can now witness it in detail as          though it were planned and his role is to point us where to          look. 3 seconds become 30... We fall with his face in high          definition slow motion watching his future. We fall with the          rock pitilessly chasing him down to the floor of the canyon.          As he lands...                          CUT TO:           27.                                                            INT. CANYON. PRE DAWN.          ... His eyes open and he stands unsteadily rubbing at his          legs, the lack of circulation has forced him up. Doesn't          think about the dream, starts chipping again.                          CUT TO:                                                            INT. CANYON. TIME-LAPSE. DAWN.          Lit only by his lamp, the black shifts to grey and then          there's light. He watches it arrive. A rush of wind.          Something flaps and he looks up sharply -                                                   RAVEN           Caw-caw.                          CUT TO:                                                            EXT. SKY. DAY.          A black raven flies symmetrically the length of the canyon          slit above him. Blue, blue sky.                                                   CUT TO:                                   INT. CANYON. DAY.                                                   ARON           Caw-caw.                                   As he stretches his neck to follow the path of the only other          living thing, he freezes stock still. The bird has gone.          Nothing moves. Not him.... nothing. Time passes.                                   He switches his light off.                          CUT TO:                                   EXT. NEVADA DESERT. BLACK ROCK CITY. PRE DAWN.          On top of some 4 x 4 vehicles are 8-10 ft huge Easter Island-          like masks, multi-coloured. Multiple bikes are strapped to          the backs of the vehicles too. More of Aron's friends,          including Mark V.E. mill around their 4 x 4s. There are          multiple lights in the distance but it's unclear what it          might be. The vehicles' own headlights illuminate Rana, a          stunningly beautiful red-haired woman in her mid-20s,          effortlessly organising the 15 or so group. As before, we          remain behind Aron. By the camera's virtually complete          concentration on Rana it's clear he's a fan.           28.                                                                            RANA           OK - lights off and line up           alongside me.          They turn off their vehicles' headlights as she draws a long          line in the sand and they join her standing on one side of          it.                                                   RANA (CONT'D)           On the other side of this line,           everything will be different.          As they all hold hands and together step cross the line          (Aron's keen and ever so slightly ahead of everyone across          the line) the sparkling lights of the crescent-shaped `town'          of vehicles and camps that is Burning Man are replaced by an          astonishing sunrise in the Nevada desert. They hoot and          holler as Rana smiles beautifully at Aron.                          RANA (CONT'D)           And remember, stick together, the           desert wants to kill you.                          CUT TO:                                                            INT. CANYON. DAWN.          Aron is very still, looking at the rock and the open blade          lying on top of it. Suddenly he looks over his shoulder to          see...                          CUT TO:                                                            INT. CANYON. MORNING.          A dagger of sunlight appear behind him. His won sunrise.                                                            C.U. WATCH.          9.30am                          CUT TO:                                                            INT. CANYON. DAWN.          He looks at ithe sunbeam as though it's his prey and it might          run away. It makes it's way along the canyon walls towards          him. He's very still. But it shifts across the floor and          it's going to miss him. He whips off his left shoe and sock          and pushes it towards the coming light. Slowly it climbs and          caresses his ankle and lower calf. He pulls the other sock          off and alternates the feet. He looks like he's doing yoga.          As it leaves him passing overhead it suddenly bursts into the          opening in front of him.           29.                                                            It's a beautiful sight as the colors of the canyon reawaken          but we can see from above that he appears to be behind a door          with a room of life beyond him.                          CUT TO:                                                                           TITLE:                         " SUNDAY ":                          CUT TO:                                   INT. CANYON. DAY. VIDEO MESSAGE ONE.                                                   ARON           It's three-oh-five on Sunday. This           marks my twenty-four-hour mark of           being stuck in Blue John Canyon           above the Big Drop. My name is           Aron Ralston. My parents are Donna           and Larry Ralston of Englewood,           Colorado. Whoever finds this,           please make an attempt to get this           to them. Be sure of it. I would           appreciate it.          He takes long blinks and seems to avoid looking at himself          though the screen is facing him. He looks alarmed and wide          eyed, startled, in contrast to his slow slurred delivery.                          ARON (CONT'D)           So... I was hiking Blue John Canyon           yesterday... and this happened.          He pulls the camera round to show where his forearm and wrist          disappear into the horrifyingly skinny gap between the          chockstone and the wall. As he does that we                          INTERCUT WITH:          INT/EXT. VARIOUS. CANYON. DAY.          Flashes of the accident-almost in silhouette - like an          animatic side view. It freezes just before the moment of          entombment.                          CUT TO:                                                            INT. CANYON. DAY. VIDEO FOOTAGE.                          ARON           What you're looking at there is my           arm, going into the rock... and           there it is, stuck. It's been           without circulation for 24 hours.                          (MORE)           30.                                                   ARON (CONT'D)           It's pretty well gone. If the           colour doesn't come across on the           video, it's grey and blue.                          ARON (CONT'D)           Unnhhhhh.......I'm in deep stuff.                                                   ARON (CONT'D)           So I have very little water.          He can't help look in the camera towards those who know what          that means in this place.                          ARON (CONT'D)           Yeah, I have about a third of a           litre left.          He picks up the water bottle and shakes it for the camera.                          INTERCUT WITH:                                                            INT/EXT. VARIOUS. CANYON. DAY.          Different angle on the freeze-frame.                                                   CUT TO:                                   INT. CANYON. VIDEO FOOTAGE.                                                   ARON           So the way I see it... there's kind           of four things happening here... I           tried to move it with some           rigging... useless... and I tried           chipping away at the rock... I           think part of the problem is, is           that my hand is actually supporting           the rock. Which means every time I           chip away the rock moves a bit and           settles onto my hand again. I           can't feel it happening but           microscopically, it seems to be,           because the little gap over there           between the rock and the wall seems           to be getting smaller. And this           chockstone is the hardest thing           here.                                                   CUT TO:           31.                                                            INT. WIDE. MOVING THROUGH CANYON. REALTIME.                                   A breeze slides through the canyon and he shudders          involuntarily for five seconds.                          CUT TO:                                                            INT. CANYON. DAY. VIDEO FOOTAGE.                          ARON           So the third thing left was to cut           my arm off.                                                  PAUSE                          ARON (CONT'D)           I don't know whether I could do           that but it's pretty much suicide.           It's four hours to my vehicle that           way and with very difficult           climbing with one hand and the bike           is like two, two and a half hours,           that way but the climbing... fourth           class climbing... which I think           will be probably impossible with           one hand... between the blood loss           and the dehydration I think I would           die if I cut off my arm.                          ARON (CONT'D)           Which means I'm waiting for someone           to come along.          He summons up the guts to let the evidence out.                                                   ARON (CONT'D)           I didn't tell anyone where I was           going and I didn't leave a note on           the truck.                                                   ARON (CONT'D)           Dumb.          The video whirrs on until he suddenly looks straight into the          lens.                          CUT TO:                                   INT. CANYON. DAY. REALTIME.          He hears voices.           32.                                                                                                                              CUT TO:                                   INT. CANYON. DAY. VIDEO FOOTAGE.                                   We see his reaction to this sound through the video message.                          CUT TO:                                   INT. CANYON. DAY. REALTIME.          He puts the camera down and listens. People descending at          the S log! He can hear them. He screams and screams and          screams and then he stops. He listens again.                          CUT TO:                                                            INT. CANYON. DAY. ARON'S POV BACK UP THE CANYON.          The noise is there still. Again he screams and screams.                                                   CUT TO:                                   INT. CANYON. DAY.                                   Breathing hard, heart racing he listens again. The noise is          still there unchanged. He knows now it's not people. They          would have heard him.                                                   CUT TO:                                   INT. CANYON. DAY. ARON'S POV.          He looks above and behind and sees a kangaroo rat          disappearing, scuffling, behind a chockstone.                          CUT TO:                                   INT. CANYON. DAY.                                   He stops, staring at the camera still recording. He picks it          up, rewinds and ...                                                   CUT TO:                                   INT. CANYON. DAY. VIDEO FOOTAGE.          ... re-runs the sound of him screaming for help.           33.                                                                            ARON                          (SCREAMING)           HELP!!! HELP!!!! OVER HERE!!!           HEEELLLPP!!!          Freaky. We just see an arbitrary view of the rock and sky on          the video camera, maybe with a bit of elbow, but we hear his          desperation, screaming at no one, distorting on the tiny          speaker.                          CUT TO:                                   INT. CANYON. DAY. REALTIME.                                   He stops it. The sound of his absolute helplessness and need          freaks him out and threatens absolute despair. Snorts.                          ARON           No one's coming Aron.                                   He rewinds to the end of the message and erases his futile          calls for help.                          CUT TO:                                                            EXT. ARON'S TRUCK. DAY.          Aron's Truck. We sense him in the cab but we're not inside          with him yet. Music loud and pulsing as we travel towards          the inflatable Scooby Doo. It's 12ft tall, powered by a mini-          generator.                                                   CUT TO:                                   INT. ARON'S TRUCK. DAY.          Aron swerves to affect the figure which buckles and flaps in          his after-draft.                          CUT TO:                                   EXT. ROAD. DAY.                                   We stay with the dancing figure as his truck drives away into          the landscape. The generator fan rattles on as the booming          bass of the truck fades.                          CUT TO:                                   INT. CANYON. DAY.                                   You can see him thinking. Will the girls go to the party?           34.                                                            EXT. GOOGLE-EARTH SATELLITE SHOT OF WILDERNESS. DUSK.          We're now high above the desert, and in the time-lapse we see          the soft, grey, endless line of darkness cross right to left                         BRINGING -                          CUT TO:                                                                           TITLE:                         " NIGHT TWO ":                          CUT TO:                                                            INT. CANYON. NIGHT.          A flashing, strobe-ing light - Aron's head-lamp bouncing back          and forth off the canyon walls - but also, as he continues to          chip away...                                                   INTERCUT WITH:                                                            INT. CANYON. NIGHT.          ...jump-cutting, strobe-lit as though by flash, of Aron madly          dressing for the night.                                                   INTERCUT WITH:                                   C/U: WATCH                                   We see the thermometer on his watch falling down and down          from 70 => below 50.                                                   CUT TO:                                   INT. CANYON. NIGHT.                                   The whole thing is almost like stop-frame animation. He          cannibalizes everything he can, using his knife, his teeth,          he tears holes in a cloth camera bag, he's frantically paced          to occupy himself, to pass time, to create heat from energy,          but he has to be careful not to stab himself in the eye. He          thrusts his left arm into the newly fashioned sleeve, pulling          it up with his teeth.          Purple webbing around his right arm, the insulated Camelbak          protects his upper arm from the chilling canyon wall. Yellow          webbing wraps a grocery bag (that held the burritos) round          his upper right bicep.           35.                                                            The dirty green and yellow ropes are curled round his legs          like pythons. Finally he puts his head inside the rope bag.                          CUT TO:                                   INT. ROPE BAG. BLACK.                                   It's plastic inside and although it's black the light from          his head-lamp suddenly lights him up alarmingly as we go          inside with him.                          CUT TO:                                                            EXT. ROPE BAG. NIGHT.          He looks like a multi-coloured version of the Michelin Man,          only much thinner.                          CUT TO:                                                            INT. ROPE BAG. NIGHT.                                   He laughs, as though he can see how ludicrous he looks.          We return to normal speed as he turns the light off.                          CUT TO:                                                            INT. ROPE BAG. NIGHT.                                   BLACK - but we can hear his breathing close as in a space          suit. LONG PAUSE.                          ARON           God, I am praying to you for           guidance. I'm trapped in Blue John           Canyon - you probably know that -           and I don't know what I am supposed           to do. I've tried everything I can           think of. I need some new ideas.           Please show me a sign.          PAUSE - Just his breath.          He switches on the head lamp and the inside of the bag          explodes with light. There's enough light for any kind of          heaven but it's just Aron in Blue John Canyon. He looks          around his bag. He stops. Silence. Only his breathing to          listen to. Heart rate... fast... too fast.          Light off.                                   PAUSE.           36.                                                                            ARON (CONT'D)           OK, then, God, since you're           apparently busy: Devil, if you're           listening, I need some help here.           I'll trade you my arm, my soul,           whatever you want. Just get me out           of here. You want me never to           climb again, I can give that up.           Just show me the dotted line.                         PAUSE:                          ARON (CONT'D)           Ungg-gggu-ggga-gggngh!                                   His throat uncontrollably shudders and splutters as his teeth          rattle with cold suddenly. It does sound like a demonic fit          from the multi-coloured headless man.                          ARON (CONT'D)           Yeah. Not very funny.                                                   CUT TO:                                                            INT. ASPEN STORE. DAY.          Aron leaves work: at no point do we see Aron. He's there,          you sense him in reflective surfaces, his arms, particularly          his right one and his feet occasionally come into shot. It's          not a strict P.O.V, more like 'over the shoulder' but without          much shoulder.                          Q           What you doin'?                          ARON           Still not sure. I'll see you           Tuesday.                          Q           Have a good one.                                                   ARON           Always do.                          CUT TO:                                                            BLACK.                          CUT TO:           37.                                                            C/U: DIGITAL NUMERALS          11:59 => 00.00 in huge, luminous figures.                          CUT TO:                                                            INT. CANYON. NIGHT.          He pulls his bag off and pulls his water bottle out of the          ground where he has half-buried it. It won't open. He can't          unscrew it. He mutters, cursing himself for tightening the          lid too much. He puts it between his teeth and levers with          his head, but nothing. Is his strength vanishing so quickly?                                   He looks at his puffy left hand... there's a tremble in it.          He shakes it to get rid of the tremble and jams the bottle          between his legs. He uses a bit of cloth to give his hand          better purchase on the top. We're tight on the neck of the          bottle as it releases, finally and he lifts it, slowly,          almost ceremonially. Controlling the tilt, a half-mouthful          of water slides onto his tongue. He tilts the bottle back          towards upright but not the whole way. He waits. Circulating          the splash of water around his mouth.                                                   CUT TO:                                   INT. CANYON. C/U: BOTTLE NECK                                   The bottle neck stares at Aron.                          CUT TO:                                                            INT. CANYON. C/U: ARON          ... his eyes staring at the bottle neck.                          CUT TO:                                                            INT. CANYON. NIGHT.          He still holds the water in his mouth as he rewinds the top          onto the bottle and reburies it in the sand to stop any          evaporation. He moves to pop his contact lenses into his          mouth and wash them in the moisture. First one then the other          as we...                                                   CUT TO:                                   INT. ARON'S APARTMENT. DAY.          The images shift with the lens change back to his apartment,          daylight, we sense him though he's probably in the shower.          His ansaphone clicks in.           38.                                                                            ANSAPHONE (MOM)           Aron, it's Mom. Hoping to catch           you. Nothing urgent. Dad's in New           York so it'll be a quiet weekend.          Aron is clearly there but can't answer.                                    ANSAPHONE (MOM) (CONT'D)           Call me. Lots of love.                          CUT TO:                                   INT. ARON'S APARTMENT. DAY.                                   In front of his bathroom mirror he's slipping his lenses in          for the day. It looks like The Man Who Fell To Earth.                          CUT TO:                                                            INT. C/U: VARIOUS. ARON & MIRROR. DAY.          Huge close-ups that freak people out who've never worn          lenses. Mirror shots and lots of short soft focus.                                                   CUT TO:                                   INT. ARON'S APARTMENT. DAY.                                   We hear a girl and a guy somewhere in the apartment. He          closes the door. GIRL SHOUTS:                                                   GIRL           That was your Mom! And your Dad           called. Call him. We're going.           See you next week. Oh, and Rana           called.                          CUT TO:                                   INT. CANYON FLOOR. PRE DAWN.          He is absolutely still. Almost absent. Flies buzz around          him. Indeterminate time passes.                          CUT TO:           39.                                                            INT. CANYON FLOOR. PRE DAWN.          Massive C/U of an ant. Huge, high-definition image, more          like a JCB-digger than an insect, and then more of them, and          all moving towards the mosquitoes which hover and land near          the real giant, Aron.                                                   CUT TO:                                   EXT. CANYON. PRE DAWN.          He watches them devour him and then he clears them away from          his hand. Suddenly breaks and he's busy now well before          sunrise. In the grey-white, soft morning he is involved in          recycling his overnight insulation gear into a crude lift and          pulley.          Obsessive, inventive, analytical, he constantly adjusts and          adds and subtracts, and cannibalizes. Undoing and tieing          knots with his teeth and hand. Each time nothing happens to          the rock. But each time he doesn't stop. He tries again and          again and again; looping and re-looping throwing and catching          ropes; creating footholds and bouncing in them with his foot,          his knees, his ass.                                                                                     Finally he stops. He looks down. For a moment it's as though          he will cry. He looks up to where he came from and                                                   CUT TO:                                                            INT/EXT. VARIOUS. CANYON AND BEYOND. DAY.          ... suddenly we're moving, retracing his journey at          increasing and eventually staggering speed.          Through the slot canyon, up and into the blazing light across          the desert paths, past his chained-up bicycle and back to his          truck waiting at the side of the road. But we don't stop...                                    SLAM CUT TO:                                   INT. ARON'S TRUCK. DAY.          We crash into the back of the truck and there, lying on its          side is an almost-full bottle of Gatorade, and then there's a          grapefruit, and another one, and they've got sparkly          condensation on them -like advertising spritzer mist - all          over them. And a water bottle, and an orange. And high          energy snack bars and another orange. The fruit seems to          roll around the empty truck.           40.                                                            The Gatorade lies on its side and the liquid slaps slowly          backward and forward like a Lava lamp. The liquid literally          bulges with wetness, moisture texture, and we...                          CUT TO:                                                            INT. CANYON. DAY.          ... snap back to Aron's face.                          CUT TO:                                                  TITLE:                                                  " MONDAY ":                          CUT TO:                                                            VIDEO MESSAGE TWO. INTERCUT WITH LIVE FOOTAGE.                                   Aron trying not to look at himself:                                                                            ARON          It's freaking me out looking at myself so I hope you guys are          OK with this                                                  PAUSE                          CUT TO:                                                                           REALTIME:                                   We can see 2 images of him when we go behind the balanced          video on the rock, as he has deliberately turned the screen          away from himself.                          CUT TO:                                                  VIDEO:                                                   ARON           It's Monday - all day - bummer. I           spent the morning trying to create           a 6:1 system ration and lift the           boulder but friction between the           rope and carabiners is dissipating           every bit of force I apply.                          (MORE)           41.                                                   ARON (CONT'D)           All it's good for is sitting in...                                                   CUT TO:                                                  REALTIME:                                   We see a more objective view of his morning's activities as          he describes them. We see him below us as the raven flies          between us and him.                          CUT TO:                                                                           VIDEO:                          ARON           There's a raven flies overhead, I           clocked it at 8.15. I'll bet it's           there tomorrow too. I'll film it           for you tomorrow                          CUT TO:                                                            REALTIME: EXT. SKY. DAY.          We see the raven and we see him check his watch. Sure          enough, 8.14 Slides to 8.15.                                                   CUT TO:                                                                           VIDEO:                          ARON           I have about one hundred and fifty           millilitres of water left. That's           four ounces. I can't believe it           but I peed twice today, within a           few minutes of each other. How is           this possible? It's two days since           I peed, I'm dehydrated and I had to           go so quickly I forgot to save the           first. I saved the second in the           CamelBak. Will I drink it? It           smells foul, and hot but it'll           settle. And I can chill it in the           sand in the night. It's like Polar           winter here for nine hours.                          CUT TO:           42.                                                                           REALTIME:          We see his precious bottle of water. It looks back at him.          Next to it is the Camelbak of his stored urine.                          CUT TO:                                                                           VIDEO:                          ARON           No number twos. Which will           disappoint my insect friends.           They're gonna have to wait. The           sunlight appears down here for a           few hours. I get 15 minutes of it           at 9.35... and apart from chipping           away uselessly at this rock that's           pretty much my morning routine.                          CUT TO:                                                            REALTIME - TIME-LAPSE:                                   Aron is deathly still as we travel towards him with the          dagger of light. His leg is stretched out and the only          movement is the change of leg halfway through. He stays in          shot throughout getting bigger and then smaller as the light          approaches and recedes; the sliver of light leaves the          canyon.                          CUT TO:                                                                           VIDEO:                          ARON           I keep chipping at the rock but           just to generate warmth and give me           something to do. I think it's           making it worse. I know it's           settling more on my arm as I remove           material from it. The area where I           chipped flakes off yesterday has           already rotated down onto my arm.                                    PAUSE. I can't feel anything.           PAUSE. So I made a great           tourniquet and I tried to cut it           off.                          CUT TO:           43.                                                                           REALTIME:          We see him pull the elastic neoprene tubing insulation from          the CamelBak. It's stretchy, supple and strong and emerges          like a thin snake. It's perfect. He wraps the black          neoprene around his right forearm 2 inches below his elbow.          Simple overhand knot tightened with his teeth. 2nd knot, 3rd          knot, clips the neoprene with a carabiner and twists 6 times          tight.                                                                            ARON                          OWWWWW                                   Now real pain in his right arm. Weird smile at the success.          The skin colour separates; fish belly white below the          tourniquet and bright red bunched up crushes of flesh between          the elbow and the tourniquet.                          ARON (CONT'D)           Oh yeah. That aches.          He takes out the multi-tool and switches to the long blade.          looks at it. Then he presses the blade and draws it quickly          across his forearm. Nothing. Repeats it harder. Nothing.          No cut, no blood, nothing. He switches to the short knife          and saws viciously at the same point.                          ARON (CONT'D)           Shit!          He releases the tourniquet and as the blood flow returns a          series of angry red lines establish themselves where he was          sawing. He looks at them.                          ARON (CONT'D)           Pathetic, Aron, pathetic.                          CUT TO:                                                                           VIDEO:                          ARON           The blades are too blunt even to           break the skin. I guess that's the           chipping. It's not even a proper           Leatherman. It's a knock-off one           we got free in a gift pack with a           torch... Mom gave it to me.           LONG PAUSE.           Sis. Sonja, I'm very proud of you.                          (MORE)           44.                                                   ARON (CONT'D)           I didn't get to hear firsthand how           your championships went, but I           heard from Mom that you placed very           well at the national competitions,           that you were tenth overall in           speech and debate in the nation.           Hot damn, girl. I'm very proud of           you. Not just for that but for who           you are.          He looks directly in the lens for the first time.                                                   ARON (CONT'D)           I can imagine you in your living           room looking back at me.                          CUT TO:                                   INT. CANYON. DAY.                                   We see his sister on her living room sofa. The sofa sits in          the open section of the canyon.                                                   CUT TO:                                   INT. CANYON. DAY. VIDEO FOOTAGE.                                                   ARON           I've been thinking about what my           friend Rob in Aspen says to me           several... frequently.. Several times           that, confusingly,           'It's not what you do but who you           are'.           I kind of got hung up on that a           lot, because I always thought who I           was, was very much wrapped up with           what I did. That I was happy           because of the things that I did           that made me happy. If things you           do make you happy, then they can           also make you unhappy. I think           that's why I found myself being as           ambitious and energetic -          The wind interrupts him and he shivers.                          ARON (CONT'D)           (mutters, bitterly)           It's cold... this place is an ice-           box at night... And killing winds.           45.                                                                           PAUSE                          ARON (CONT'D)           (he struggles to complete           the sense of the                          SENTENCE)                                    " - to do all the outings that I           did". PAUSE.          As he loses track of what he's saying and then catches up,          the canyon has become noticeably darker. He's oblivious.                          ARON (CONT'D)           I did want to say, on the           logistical side of things, I have           some American Express insurance           that should cover costs of the           recovery operation when that does           happen. Bank account balances           should take care of my credit-card           debts. You'll have to sell my           house, Mom and Dad. Possession-           wise, I don't know if Sonja can use           my computer and video camera...                                                   CUT TO:                                   INT. CANYON. DAY.                                   He's interrupted by a sudden realization as he looks first          one way up the canyon and then the other. He looks up at the          sky above.                                                   CUT TO:                                                            EXT. SLOT CANYON. DAY. ARON'S POV.          There's an angry looking black motherfucker of a cloud.                          CUT TO:                                                                                                              HUGE C/U OF:          A massive crack of noise like the land has split. His eyes          staring up, unblinking, the corridor of light above him          reflected in is contact lenses like mirrors. Suddenly a drop          of water hits his eye like an invisible bomb dropping from          the sky.                          CUT TO:           46.                                                            EXT. DESERT. DAY.          We're many miles away, the dust spits as though hit by silent          bullet tracer fire. Raindrops gathering and multiplying,          soaking and bouncing off the desert floor, they skim and slip          into a groove and then another, the slit instantly fills and          water drops crash on the new surface. The spillage spreads          and fills everything near it. We tilt up, the sky is furious          black, and murderous. Lightning arcs across hundreds of          miles.                          CUT TO:                                   INT. CANYON. DAY.                                   Aron's sky darkens above him. Instantly plunging him into a          dark, violet nether-light. He looks up the canyon as he          pulls at his arm in panic and tries to gather his laid-out          possessions into his backpack. Simultaneously he opens his          mouth to gather any drops he can into his parched throat.                                                   CUT TO:                                                            EXT. DESERT. DAY.          A channel fills now as the grooves spill and multiply. The          water poured from above appears everywhere, visibility is          virtually gone, whether it's through mist or darkness it's          impossible to tell.                          CUT TO:                                                            EXT. DESERT. DAY.          Another channel explodes like a volcanic surging mass in          every direction. The camera literally slips and slides as          the water now seems to take a direction towards deeper          gulleys, looking for something to fill, for somewhere to          escape to.                                   The floor of the desert becomes a river careering towards the          slot canyons.                          CUT TO:                                                            EXT. DESERT. DAY.          Now carrying debris with it the water cascades into the          natural pipe-work of the desert.                          CUT TO:           47.                                                            EXT. BLUE JOHN CANYON S-LOG. DAY.          We see the S log from below as someone seems to pour          unimaginable tons of water over the lips of the canyon above          it. The walls glisten with force as the canyon becomes a 6FT          wall of churning mud, hurtling towards the chockstones. The          smaller ones are picked up and tossed downstream, smashing          and breaking on the bigger ones.                          CUT TO:                                   INT. CANYON. DAY. WIDE.          We can see Aron in the distance pulling at his arm. Without          time to watch it's journey towards him, it seems to skip time          and hit him like a tsunami under-surging the initial push of          water on the floor.                          CUT TO:                                                            INT. CANYON. DAY. CLOSER.          In an instant it smashes into his chest, scattering all of          his possessions as he still tries to grab them.                                                            He pushes and pulls, trying to gain height but is underwater          almost immediately. He tries to take a huge suck of air          before he's submerged but even that is compromised by water.          We hear him choke and he disappears into the liquid wall of          mud.                                                   CUT TO:                                                            INT. CANYON. DAY. UNDERWATER FOOTAGE.          We're with him underwater. He's trying to switch his light          on. We can see almost nothing in this washing machine of          churning slush and debris and malevolent water. The light          flicks on. He can see his arm and the rock. Suddenly the          water lifts the chockstone and his arm releases. He pulls it          towards him, luminous deathly white in the mud, and flat, and          too big.                          CUT TO:                                                            INT. CANYON. DAY. UNDERWATER FOOTAGE.          We're close on Aron's face, at last free but now suffocating          in darkness.                                                   CUT TO:           48.                                                            INT: CANYON. NIGHT.          Aron gasps and throws his night bag off his head and to the          floor. He's sweating and gasping; thumped alert but...                          CUT TO:                                                                           TITLE:                         " NIGHT THREE ":                          CUT TO:                                                            INT. CANYON. NIGHT.          ... the canyon is dry as Mars. He tries to control his          breathing. Head down, sweat drips onto his arm - he licks it          off and lifts his head - a sudden shiver - looks at his          watch.                                                   CUT TO:                                                            C/U. WATCH:          The display changes from 20.29 => 20.30                          CUT TO:                                                            INT. CANYON. NIGHT.                                   He can't believe so little time has passed. He's only just          closed his eyes. It's going to be a long night.          The two bottles stand looking at him. He goes back in the          head bag and we go with him.                          CUT TO:                                   INT. ROPE BAG. NIGHT          He holds the video camera at waist height and switches it to          playback. He rewinds through his messages. Stops, switches          off playback and rewinds the blue LCD screen to save battery.          The light is surreal, soft LCD hell.                                                   CUT TO:                                   HUGE C/U OF:          Battery time. Time rewinding, hurtling backwards.           49.                                                            Stops. Plays back.                          CUT TO:                                   INT. CATHEDRAL CAVE. DAY. VIDEO FOOTAGE.                                   Megan and Kristi. The Cathedral. They clamber out in wet          clothes - it's from after their first jumps. We see all          three of them climb and fall and get out of the water and          climb and fall, smashing into the azure water. Their faces          are dripping wet, beaming mad, screaming and howling,          completely natural, children really, on their first helter-          skelter / Big Dipper.                                   He rewinds this time in vision. Kristi's bra and pants are          soaking. Megan's top cascades water as she rises out of the          water.                          CUT TO:                                                            INT. ROPE BAG. NIGHT          For Aron the volume of his and their shouting is deafening          and the first human sounds he has heard for days. He          watches, staring, laughing; not laughing, staring, eyes          tearing in self-pity.                          CUT TO:                                                            C/U: VIDEO CAMERA                                   HE STOPS IT IN VISION          There's water, joy, 2 beautiful girls, happiness, sensuality,          company, freedom...                          CUT TO:                                                            INT. ROPE BAG. NIGHT.          He looks at the picture and then into the bag. His breathing          is hard, pronounced. He carefully tells himself..                                                   ARON           No. No. Don't.                                   He sees the moisture on the inside of the bag, condensation.          He licks it with his sticky tongue, twice, three times. He          looks back at the LCD screen.                          CUT TO:           50.                                                            INT. ROPE BAG. NIGHT.          The LCD looks back at him.                          CUT TO:                                                            INT. ROPE BAG. NIGHT.          He kills the image and snaps it shut.                          CUT TO:                                   INT. CANYON. NIGHT.                                   He emerges from the bag.          21.05 and looks at the bottle. He takes the Camelbak and          saying...                                                   ARON           See you later...          ... swallows quickly 2 'spoons' of urine without disturbing          the sediment. Tangy and bitter, the saltiness makes him          wince.                          CUT TO:                                                            INT. ARON'S TRUCK. DUSK.          We're in his truck again but this time over his shoulder and          we can see the Scooby Doo Figure dancing in the distance.          It's now lit up too, as night is falling, and we're coming at          it from the other direction. As he gets to it he swerves and          follows its guide to the party.           JUMP CUT TO:                                                            EXT. DRIVEWAY. NIGHT          Jump cut, pulling up at the party.           JUMP CUT TO:                                                            INT. PARTY. NIGHT.          Jump cut, inside it's nice, full of ordinary decent people,          though no one acknowledges Aron as we stay attached to his          shoulder. There's a mini-Scooby Doo dancing in the main room          and there's a light, early party atmosphere. Aron searches          for the girls, approaching any cluster to see which girls          they contain. Rana is there but doesn't acknowledge him.           51.                                                            There's no Megan or Kristi anywhere and we finally settle on          the bar / drinks table where there is an ocean of all kinds          of drink. And melting ice in huge buckets with bottles of          beer floating around in them. And orange juice, and          popsicles. And melon, and lemon and lime. And grapefruit          and oranges for Margaritas are filling frosted glasses.          During the ritual we...                                                   CUT TO:                                   INT. CANYON. NIGHT          Aron ducks out of his head-bag and shakes his water bottle.          Something he always does - to check the sound of real water.          To make sure he hasn't drunk it all without knowing. He          opens, tilts and holds as always and then ritualistically          removes his contact lenses and washes them in his mouth.          Suddenly a shiver tears across him like an attack dog. He          coughs a lens out and as he tries to catch it before it goes          into the sand he tips the bottle in his lap.          He hasn't put the top on fully. It goes horizontal on his          shorts and a leak of the sacred fluid darkens his tan shorts.          He whips it upright.                          ARON           (furious at himself)           Fuck a nut, Aron. Pay fucking           attention - look what you did?          He stares at the stain - with all the dirt on his shorts it's          already paste. He screws the lid on slowly and can barely be          bothered to lift his lens into his mouth.                          CUT TO:                                   HUGE C/U OF:          With difficulty he puts the murky lens back in his bloody          eye.                          DISSOLVE TO:                                                            INT. UNKNOWN. NIGHT.          The image shifts with the lens to night, everything short          focus. Only one thing at a time clear, everything else          diffuse. No idea where we are. We come over Aron's shoulder          and he's clearly in the deep background of a vehicle. In          front of him a half a dozen of his friends (boys and          girls)... and Rana, excitedly chatting. Though we can hear          nothing.           52.                                                            Gradually it becomes clear it's night outside. They are all          undressing in their seats until all are butt naked. The tone          (we can't hear) is clearly more infantile than sexual. We're          beginning to see there's a ferocious blizzard outside. And          we appear to be badly exposed to it. Up a mountain, on the          crest of a high road... Snow, hail, swirls savagely around          all sides of the truck. We remain inside. It's warm, the          heater blows.          They prepare themselves for a mutual signal, press their          window buttons. All the windows open and a BLIZZARD explodes          inside the vehicle.                          CUT TO:                                                            EXT. MOUNTAIN. NIGHT.          One shot outside - POVs naked arms out the windows shaking          and saluting the storm. Their crazy, happy faces through the          windscreen as the weather invades the vehicle.                                                   CUT TO:                                                            INT. CANYON. NIGHT.          Aron very still, listens to their screams. He looks at his          knife dangling from his wrist by the shoelace.                                                   CUT TO:                                   EXT. CANYON. SUNRISE.                                   Hundreds of miles of canyon - sunrise. The inner canyons          change from dark umbers and black shadows to immense bands of          pastel yellow, white, green and a hundred shades of red, a          hallucinogenic movement towards light.           V.O.           `Good morning America!' etc.                                   There's a chorus of 'Good Mornings' from American TV & radio          shows. Literally dozens of them from Texas to Oregon,          Massachusetts to the Carolinas.                                                   CUT TO:                                                  TITLE:                         " TUESDAY ":                          CUT TO:           53.                                                            INT. CANYON. MORNING. VIDEO FOOTAGE.          Aron joins the morning chorus.                          ARON           Good morning everyone! It's 6:45           Tuesday morning in BJ Canyon. The           weather is great! I figure by now           that Leona, my housemate - Hi           Leona! - has missed me hopefully           since I didn't show up last night.           Another hour and a half they'll           miss me for not showing up for           work. Hi Brion at work! Best case           scenario is they notify the police           and after a 24 hour hold they file           a report, a missing persons report.           Which means noon tomorrow it's           official that I'm gone. I do still           have the tiniest bit of water left.           Well, actually, I've resorted...I've           had a couple pretty good gulps of           urine that I saved in my Camelbak.           I sorta let it distill...it tastes           like hell. So it's 70 hours since           I left on my bike from Horseshoe           Trailhead during which time I have           consumed 3 liters of water and a           couple mouthfuls of piss.                                   Pause.           Did I say the weather is great?           Well, it is. Though flash floods           potential is still present. There's           4-prong major canyons upstream from           me that all converge in this 3 foot           wide gap where I am. The rock I           pulled down on top of me, it was           put there by flood.                          PAUSE           Still, I'd get a drink.          He shudders, it's ridiculous.          Then composes himself during a long blink and looks straight          at the camera.                          ARON (CONT'D)           Mom, Dad, I really love you guys.           I wanted to take this time to say           the times we've spent together have           been awesome. I haven't appreciated           you in my own heart the way I know           I could. Mom, I love you. I wish           I'd returned all of your calls,           ever.                          (MORE)           54.                                                   ARON (CONT'D)           I really have lived this last year.           I wish I had learned some lessons           more astutely, more rapidly, than I           did. I love you. I'll always be           with you.                          CUT TO:                                                            INT. CANYON. MORNING.          Switches off the camera.          He charges into setting up the 6:1 haul system again. Much          quicker this time. He clears the rope - the rock - of his          possessions and puts his sunglasses on.                          ARON           Ready for lift-off.          He bounces his full weight in the stirrups and pulls on the          haul line. It looks a better set up.                          ARON (CONT'D)           Come on, move, dammit.                                   Nothing. He stops. And stares directly at the knife below          him. Absolute stillness. Nothing moves. Not him. Not even          the insects.                                                   CUT TO:                                   INT. CANYON. MORNING.                                   The knife stares back.                          CUT TO:                                                            INT. CANYON. MORNING.          Without warning he suddenly tourniquets his arm again . Twice          around the fore arm, knotted twice and clipped with a          carabiner that he twists 6 times. He secures the fix by          attaching the purple webbing.                                   Looks to his watch                          CUT TO:                                   C/U: DIGITAL NUMERALS          7:58AM.                                                   CUT TO:           55.                                                            INT. CANYON. DAY.          He folds open the knife, grasps it in his fist and picking a          spot just above the rock's grip on his right wrist, he          hesitates and then violently plunges the blade into his arm          up to the hilt.                                   He lets go leaving the knife embedded. He swoons and stares          at it. He slowly grasps the tool more firmly and wriggles it          slightly, the blade connects with something hard. He taps the          knife down and feels it knocking on the radius of his upper          forearm bone.          He puts his ear close and we can hear the little thocking          sound.                                                   ARON           Whoa, that's the bone.          He pulls the knife out opening the wound more. There's barely          any blood. He pokes at the gash with the tool.                                                   ARON (CONT'D)           Ouch!                                   He can see the epidermis, thick and leathery rough. Yellow          fatty tissue under the skin in a membrane layer around the          muscle. He thocks, thocks again and some blood finally seeps          out and blocks his view. He pulls the knife out and thinks.          He's sweating and puts the tool on top of the chockstone.                                   He immediately pulls up his water bottle and stares into it.          With a little shake he opens it and drinks it all gulping          open throated. He shakes any last drop down and runs his          tongue up into the neck. He screws the lid back on and          loosens the tourniquet. There's no discernible increase in          blood loss.          He picks up the video again.                          CUT TO:                                                                                                    VIDEO FOOTAGE                                                   ARON (CONT'D)           This next part may not be for all           viewers at home. It's a little           after eight. At precisely eight           o'clock I took my last sip of clean           water... and... hide your eyes,           Mom...          He pans across the boulder and zooms in on the wound,          smattered with bright red blood.           56.                                                                            ARON (CONT'D)           I made an attempt - a short career           in surgery, as it turned out -           those knives are just not anywhere           close to the task. I've got about           an inch-wide gash in my arm that           goes about a half inch deep. I cut           down through the skin and the fatty           tissue, and through some of the           muscle. I think I cut a tendon, but           I'm not sure.           I'll never saw through the bones           with this knife. I tried, anyways.           It really just didn't go well. The           tourniquet is relaxed at this           point. Which actually is a little           bothersome, considering I'm not           bleeding that bad, barely at all.           It's so weird. You'd expect to           definitely see more pulsing and           bleeding, but oh well.                          PAUSE                                    I'm really fucked now. I'm out of           water.                          CUT TO:                                                            INT. CANYON. DAY.          Stops the video and rips a section of his t-shirt to make an          impromptu bandage to cover the wound. As he ties it with his          teeth there's a rush of someone else's noise: the swat of          wings. He grabs the camera just in time to catch the very end          of the raven's flight 70 ft above his head.                          ARON           Shit missed it. 8:31AM. He's late           and I still missed it.                                   We can hear his heart racing. He holds his left hand to it          hoping to calm it down.                          CUT TO:                                                            EXT. STADIUM. CROWDS.          Like the beginning there are thousands of fans filling the          screen, people everywhere, maybe holding lighters. And again          like the beginning the screen splits into 2...           57.                                                                           TITLE:          " NIGHT FOUR. WEDNESDAY. NIGHT FIVE "                          CUT TO:                                                            INT/EXT. VARIOUS.          The rest of Tuesday and night, and Wednesday and night play          out through the triptych. Repetition is used to create a          trippy sense of losing coherence- sometimes there's 3 Arons          doing the same thing. It could be consecutive days or he's          forgotten.                                   At key moments it resolves to one image and then back again.          Things seem to loop and his close-ups almost seem to watch          the loops happening again and again. This is particularly          true inside the head bag at night. When his light is switched          on it's bleached and monstrously overlit, like cruel HD close-          up - his disintegration is terrifying.                                   When it's off we establish a night vision, of green, of blue,          that allows us to witness him in hiding. The images,          sometimes of himself also, play out on the interior surface          of the bag. The effect is like wraparound Imax, multi-screen          Technicolor.                                   INT. CANYON. DAY. DIPTYCH.                                   Aron has his headphones on EXT. STADIUM CROWD                                                                                     Listening to the live concert          again.                                   The laser in the CD The crowd smears,          skips. dragged and distorted.          It's been damaged by the time in The numbers skip on the          the sand. display.                                                            As they stop...                          CUT TO:                                                            INT. CANYON. DAY.          Aron falls into the canyon.           58.                                                                                     Beyond the foot 11.32 => 11.33          in the sunlight Aron falls again into the HUGE figures.          dagger. We don't canyon replayed in slower          see above waist motion V.O: HERE he is          height. Someone Aron lifts a          carrying 2 huge huge rock onto          office water his shoulder          dispensers by and heaves it          their necks walks to crash on          into the canyon the chockstone          He walks up to Aron It shatters          And puts them down into dust.          his side and leaves. It's like          ARON: quarry mining.          `Thanks' He finds a                          BLACK SHOT-           Adverts - 7UP, etc. Some putt sized           televised, some billboard rock and           some radio, pull tab cans begins           split and spit, slurpees hammering with           grapefruit juice, OJ that -           popsicles. ARON:           `owwww!'           But he carries           on.                          SHUDDERING SO                          VIOLENTLY WITH          Temperature 57 - shivers, like          56 - 55 (huge a fit teeth          Figures) chattering,                          RACKING HIS           A figure starts body with a           a small fire to furious           comfort Aron. vengeance.           Perfect for bacon           and beans.          He pisses again 02.02=>03.03=>04.04          ARON: Huge luminous figures on There's the          "I can't believe the inside of the black interior Scooby          this..." bag. Doo waving at a          decants the table in front          sediment out of V.O: There you are of it piled to          Camelbak. The creaking point          stench of the with margaritas          sediment makes the excess runs          him retch and jerk down the table          away. Where is all legs.          This coming from?                         ARON:          `Fuck Aron 05.05 We see it reflected          That shit stinks' on his eyeball the eyelid           rustles back and forward.          Finished he tucks          back in but VIDEO FOOTAGE: During this we          there's a small [ARON: RAMBLING ON VIDEO see pictures,           59.                                                            bloom. ARON: ONLY SOMETIMES COHERENT] unremarkable          `You can shake Tom, thanks for the lovely, natural          and you can dance fire last night...          but the last My friend Rob in Aspen ones of Erik +          drop is in the says to me several... Jon + Kristi +          pants'- of pee frequently... several Matt + Brent +          on his shorts. times, confusingly, Gary + Judson +                          BRYAN + MIKE +           INT. ROB IN CANYON ON SOFA. Rachel + Angie           ROB: `It's not what you do [SOME TAKE           but who you are'. THEIR TURN ON          + Erik + Rana + THE SOFA IN          Sonja + Jean Marc THE CANYON]                         + CHAD + KELLER          + Soha + Craig + Aron falls          Brandon + Chip + One of the things again - the          Norm I'm learning here is that I accident           didn't enjoy people's re-runs in           company that I was with silhouette           enough, or as much as I           could have. A lot of really           good people have spent time           with me. Very often I tend           to ignore or dismiss their           presence in seeking the He eats the           essence of their presence. last bite of                          BURRITO WASHED           Did that make sense? down with a           swig of urine,           He switches off and applies winces and           lip balm. swallows           somehow. ARON:           He looks at it and bites a `That's it.           bit off. Masticates it on I'm on the           and on... Chewing. urine diet           now. Well,          The chockstone it's no          waits and Aron's slurpee...'          foot kicks and          then lands and          they fall together.                                   The raven flies. => The accident runs in Aron watches           reverse the raven           INT. STORE ROOM. DAY.           REFLECTED ON THE INSIDE           OF THE NIGHT HEAD BAG.                                                  ARON CHIPPING          away desultory A slit of light in blackness           reveals Jon in work clothes.          Aron licks A light switch flicks on and          moisture thin metal shelves full of          condensation cleaning supplies appear He takes shots          from inside the on 3 sides, industrial mop, of himself          bag. His head- Aron in his canyon gear, with his still           60.                                                            lamp blinks right arm out of focus. camera and of          unreliably. Tries to knock on door with his hand and           left arm. Jon stops him and of the light           indicates it won't do any in the canyon.          V.O: Where are good. He takes one          You going? with the flash           VIDEO FOOTAGE: at night in           ARON: I'm holding on but the canyon.           it's really slowing down, And one inside           the time is going really the bag           slow but my heart rate is blinding          INT. GARAGE. DAY. going like crazy [WE HEAR himself. The          We're in the IT POUNDING IN CONTRAST spots in his          doorway of a TO HIS SLURRING DELIVERY] eyes bleed          garage with I swear it's like 3 x what across into          friends in the it should be... other shots          background gathered and change          around Rana who colour.          is working on one Rewinded video -          of the giant Megan and Kristi          Easter Island masks and back through          for Burning Man. his life in the          She chats away, canyon and then          carefree, some of him          she's in baggy climbing in snow          dungarees or that existed on          overalls with her the tape - triumphant          hair falling around pose on top of the icy          her face out of its wonder. All ice picks          hairband. She brushes and Gore-Tex.          it back and flecks of          Plaster of Paris dust          her skin. She notices          Aron. V.O: He's over here          RANA: There you are.          She shouts to someone:          RANA: Here he is.           Mum and Dad sitting on           Sofa. Sofa sitting in canyon He imagines           In front of him - flash-floods his head in           Of light the dagger           of sunlight.                          HIS HEAD                          TURNS ALWAYS           Rana's face is remaining in           huge on the inside the light.An           of his head bag, smiling accelerating           at him. Her face in huge carousel of           scale compared to his head. yellow           warmth.                                                   CUT TO:                                                            ALL THE SCREENS GO BLACK.           61.                                                            INT. ROPE BAG. BLACK.          Breathing close but shallow and rasping.                          ARON           God, it's Aron again. I still need           some help. It's getting bad here.           I'm out of water and food.           Listen. Give me the strength not to           do anything against myself. I want           to see this through, whatever.          A rumbling thunderous sound grows and the inside of the bag          begins to bear the image of the top of the canyon at dawn but          crumpled like paper, creased like the bag [BUT STRETCHED          ACROSS 2 SCREENS]. The noise grows and grows...                          CUT TO:                                   INT. CANYON. DAY. INT. CANYON. DAY.          ARON'S UPWARD POV.          When it can get no louder Obscuring the light on          a horse leaps the 6 ft gap his face once they've          at the top of the canyon. gone and only dust          it's followed by dozens of falling lightly is          horses stampeding across his evidence then...          roof....                                                                                                     CUT TO:                                                            EXT. SKY. DAY.          ...the raven beats its wings across the canyon.                          CUT TO:                                                            INT. CANYON. DAY. SINGLE SCREEN.          We tilt down the wall (still reflected on inside of bag) to          see Aron completing his obit. Scratched on wall of canyon:          Aron Oct 75 => APR 03 RIP.          As we reverse back on Aron in the canyon there's a burst of          light and color beyond him and on the sofa in the canyon a          little boy sits. He's blond, about 3 and in a red polo shirt.          He looks like Aron.          Aron walks towards him, the sunlight hits his face like a          train and Aron looks up to it but keeps moving towards the          boy, walking downhill towards the sofa. The boy leaps off the          sofa and comes running to Aron.           62.                                                            He scoops the boy up with his left arm and balances him          around his shoulders with his right handed stump. The boy          holds Aron's arms in his little hands and they prance around          the sofa, they giggle and shout playing bulls, giraffes,          elephants, jousting knights, pretending to walk downhill          behind the sofa. Like any father in any park. [A PERFECT POP          SONG, BLONDIE MAYBE, PLAYS IN THE DISTANCE]. Like any father          in any park.          Aron watches the image begin to fade. He switches on the          light but its low and feeble.          As the images on the inside of the bag fade so too does          Aron's lamp. He tries to warm it up but it fades to black. He          holds his breath.                                                   CUT TO:                                   INT. CANYON. DAY.                                   It's strangely still even by the canyon's standards. He peeks          out from his head bag; his contacts are cloudy and sore to          blink.                                   You can hear him blink. Eye socket rasping against eyeball.          The head lolls like he's lost control of the neck muscles.          His tongue rasps as he flexes his mouth to prevent sealing.                                                   CUT TO:                                   TITLE.                                   " THURSDAY MAY 1st ".                          CUT TO:                                                            INT. CANYON. DAY.          He looks at his obituary on the wall. ARON. OCT 75 => APR 03.          RIP.                          ARON           Out of date. May Day. Not dead.          He smirks.                                   8:15 Waits for the raven. No sign                          INTERCUT WITH:                                   C/U. DIGITAL NUMERALS.                                   8:30. Nothing.           63.                                                            8:45 No raven.                          CUT TO:                                   INT. CANYON. DAY. VIDEO FOOTAGE.                                   It's tough looking at him. So long without water. The          dehydration is frightening.                          ARON           No raven today. Everything's           fucked. Sonja... if you still want           me to play at your wedding... there's           a tape in a box in the basement of           Mom and Dad's Lounge. It's me 1993           or 1994.          We hear the music. Mozart, Beethoven, Bach, Chopin - he can          hear it as he played it until...                                                   ARON (CONT'D)           There was a little boy,and he           looked like my cousin Charlie but           he was too young. And I don't want           to die... But I really don't know           what to do.          Pause.                                   Quietly, deadly:                          VOICE           I did this Aron. I created this.           The boulder did what it was here to           do. It was waiting for me but it           did the only natural thing it could           do. I chose to come here, I chose           to do this descent by myself. I           chose not to tell anyone where I           was going. I chose to turn away           from the women who were there to           keep me from getting in this           trouble. I wanted it to be like           this. Look how far I came to find           this spot.                                    It's not that I'm getting what I           deserve - I'm getting what I           wanted.          He's empty now. He clicks the camera shut and puts it away.          That's over.                          CUT TO:           64.                                                            INT. CANYON. DAY.          He looks at his 'good' hand. It's swollen and angry red like          an inflated prosthetic on top and around of his real hand. He          takes off his shoe and pulls the sock over his hand to          cushion his palm and picks up the black rounded hammer rock          again. Ignoring the pain he starts hammering at the rock          surface. SMASH. MAD NOW.                          ARON           I hate this rock.          The rage blooms purple in his mind.                          ARON (CONT'D)           I hate it.          His face swells with anger, nostrils flaring.                          ARON (CONT'D)           I hate this fucking canyon.                                   A small mushroom cloud of pulverized grit and dust erupts          each time.                                                   ARON (CONT'D)           I hate this cold slab pressing me           against this damp fucking wall.          Smash, Smash, Smash.                                                   ARON (CONT'D)           I know there's water near coz of           these fucking mosquitoes.                                                                                     The sock quickly disintegrates with friction as he hammers          and hammers.                          ARON (CONT'D)           I hate this fucking mess.                                   Finally he stops but his fingers are paralyzed, fused rigid          around the rock. He pulls them off with his teeth and the          stone drops to his feet.                                   There's a thick layer of dust across the top of the stone and          his right arm. He tries to blow it away. He fails. Tired,          it's too thick and he's too dehydrated. He picks up his knife          and using this starts sweeping the grit off his thumb. As he          cleans up he accidentally rips away a thin piece of decayed          flesh. It peels back a long way like a skin of boiled milk.          The insects start to gather.                          ARON (CONT'D)           Shit.           65.                                                            He pokes the thumb with the stubbed point of the blade. On          the second prod the blade punctures the epidermis like soft          butter. There is a clear hiss as gases escape. The stench is          death. He looks at the gangrene attached to him, poisoning          him.           ARON (QUIET, CLEAR) (CONT'D)           Get rid of it Aron, it's dead, it's           garbage.          He drops to his haunches but the webbing stops him at his          waist. He detaches it and drops down again, almost able to          squat. His trapped arm is the only thing preventing that.          His face is suddenly open.                                   He pushes and pushes with his left hand under the boulder to          create maximum downward force on his right arm. Hard, harder,          HARDER. It looks insane, unnatural and painful, but he says          nothing.                                                  POW          Like a gunshot in the canyon, the bone breaks. The sound          ricochets. He rises and sees the bone pushing up violently          against the skin. He feels it. It's a serrated, but clean,          successful break.          Still he says nothing.                                   Now he humps his body up and over the chockstone, smearing          his feet, one with a shoe, one without, against the wall, he          pushes grabbing further and further round the dark side of          the chockstone, pulling with a silent, furious intensity.          Hard, then harder, and HARDER.                                                                                                    BANG          A second gun shot smashes around the canyon. He's sweating          heavily and yet euphoric, possessed. He checks the underneath          of the arm. It's broken too. Around the same place.          He can rotate his forearm like a shaft inside a housing.          Giving himself no time to wake up he grabs the knife, looks          at the watch-                          CUT TO:                                   C/U: DIGITAL NUMERALS.                         10:32                                                   CUT TO:           66.                                                            INT. CANYON. DAY.          He mutters...                          ARON           Ok Aron, here we go. You're in it           now.                                   He pushes the knife hard, to the hilt, in between 2 veins on          his wrist.          Fuck knows where the sweat is coming from but it's pouring          out of him.          Sawing downwards he makes as large a hole as he can without          tearing any of the noodle like veins. He puts the knife in          his teeth and pokes his left forefinger and thumb inside his          right arm.          Like a mechanic he looks to analyse and then he works by feel          only.                                   His sweat falls on his knife mixing with the blood.          He pulls muscle nearer the surface allowing his knife to          slice and pare away at a pinky 'finger-sized' fragment bit by          bit. It takes a dozen actions, each time the knife goes back          to his teeth.          Sort. Pinch. Rotate. Slice.                                   There's not a lot of blood. But he keeps working and working.          Once the blood increases he puts the knife down on top of the          rock and swiftly ties his tourniquet.                                   He's silent, refusing to verbalize the pain.                          CUT TO:                                                            C/U: DIGITAL NUMERALS.          10.53                          CUT TO:                                                            INT. CANYON. DAY.          He can't cut the tendon, no matter how hard he slices. But          nothing will stop his addiction to surgery now. He folds in          and swaps the blade for the pliers. He uses them to bite into          an edge of the yellowy tendon. Then squeezing and twisting he          tears away a fragment.                                                                                     Grip. Squeeze. Twist. Tear.           67.                                                            Finally he finishes the tendon.                          CUT TO:                                   C/U: DIGITAL NUMERALS.                                                  11:16                          CUT TO:                                   INT. CANYON. DAY.          He returns to the knife. Finally all that remains inside is a          pale white strand. Like swollen angel hair pasta. The nerve.          He touches it with the knife edge.                          ARON           AAAAARRRRRGGGGHHHH!                                   He explodes internally with vocal pain, through gritted          teeth. The first time he has made any sound during the          surgery. But it's like he's been taser-ed, he's stunned still          for a minute                          CUT TO:                                                            C/U: DIGITAL NUMERALS.                         11:17                                                   CUT TO:                                   INT. CANYON. DAY.          He looks at it... the nerve.                          CUT TO:                                                            INT. CANYON. DAY.          ...and the thin, swollen wire of his own nerve looks back at          him. For the final time, he asks himself, `Can you do this?'                          CUT TO:                                   INT. CANYON. DAY.          He puts the knife in and pulls it toward him, an inch, two          inches, it lengthens like pulling a guitar string.          Unimaginable pain builds in his whole body, like he's pushing          his arm into a cauldron of magma...           68.                                                            (It's difficult to tell because everything is so tight and          claustrophobic but maybe the boy is there intermittently          riding his shoulders slipping across and around him, or          obstructed by the boulder and stopped from getting to Aron)          ...until it breaks. He shudders in shock and drops everything          for minutes. His head lolls forward dripping. His mind          swarming with trauma.          And then he's back on the last action stretching the skin of          his outer wrist tight and sawing the blade into the wall.          It's a piece of gristle on a cutting board.          Everything now is forcing us towards the boulder, cramping us          in with him impossibly close, he's sweating and heaving, his          vision blurring with tears, his contacts failing, his breath          impossibly dry and rasping and then, as simply as this all          began, his shoulders open and he's free......          He staggers back, one, two, three steps away from his arm...                                   His head swarming with colours, swooning, overpowering. He          stares at his obituary as he's born again. His feet stagger          under him like a new foal, an involuntary dance, we see          colours bleeding and blending in his P.O.V.s and the colours          invade our shots of him.                          ARON           (spitting out this           declaration at the rock)           I AM NOT GOING TO DIE.... HERE.                          CUT TO:                                                            C/U: DIGITAL NUMERALS.                                                            11.34 am                          CUT TO:                                   INT. CANYON. DAY.          He's busy packaging his stump in the plastic grocery sack and          then wrapping that with the yellow webbing he wore as a          chocker to keep his neck warm in the night. He stuffs the          repackaged arm into the empty Camelbak backpack and throws          the straps over his neck to hold the arm in a makeshift          sling.          Packs his bag, water reservoir, full bottle of shiny urine,          video, pocket knife. Grabs his climbing rope, messy and          knotted from its use as insulation, and heads off down the          canyon.                                   Stops almost immediately and hesitates for a beat. He returns           69.                                                            to take 2 photos on his still camera of the rock and his          hand.          Goodbye.                          CUT TO:                                                            INT. CANYON. DAY.          And now the motion and energy and life force of the action          movie returns...          It's like Ray Liotta's final day in Goodfellas; relentless,          frustrating, pressure of life again now he's free from his          tomb. Deeper and deeper, down and down into the swirling          scoops of the sandstone. Couple of difficult manoeuvres, lots          of slipping and bumping, despite his best effort occasionally          his right shoulder takes the brunt and he stops, winces and          grunts thru the pain.                                   But on he goes, 100 ft of the rope trailing behind him. As          we follow its progress snaking after him we see specs of          blood on the lower walls.                                   The canyon becomes a chute increasingly steep in which he          ignores the shrinking daylight above because he has another          target; the twists and turns of the curricles of sedimented          sandstone lead to a soft glow, red, translucent, growing and          growing in intensity. He pushes forward, the tail of rope          whipping faster and faster along the walls and floor.                                                   CUT TO:                                                            INT/EXT. ROCK SHELF. DAY.                                   Finally, we burst into the dazzling midday sun on a rock          shelf halfway up a sheer walled amphitheatre, 200ft high. The          scale of the slated cliff face opposite is breathtaking, the          dazzling sunlight poaches the air he sucks in and burns his          dry eyes.          He sees, for the first time in his new life, green. The deep          green of a healthy 50ft tree below him and to his left, and          he knows. He looks for the bolts drilled into the rock, and          he knows. Now he can look down. Right to the edge of          vertiginous drop and there below is a puddle of shallow          turgid water. Life itself. He wanted it to be there and now          he's mesmerized by it. A pair of swifts leave the tree and          zig zag up and around him. He wobbles and has to stop himself          lunging head first over the precipice. Instead he drops to          the bolts and kisses them like the pope arriving in a foreign          land.                                   Unravelling the rope of its knots, he's baking in blazing           70.                                                            light. He can't go yet, every knot must be undone pulled open          between his teeth and his hand. But he'll die if he can't          have moisture. He tips the saved urine over himself and          licking and retching simultaneously he suddenly stops and          listens. He can hear a shuffling, a zip-zip... The rope is          uncoiling over the ledge. He put it down to drink. Picking up          speed the more it falls, there's only a few feet left. He          lunges across the ledge and catches it just in time. That was          his future disappearing over the ledge.                          CUT TO:                                   EXT. CANYON. DAY                                                            We're far below - 6 storeys - and see him inch over the edge.          Something's not right. It's a difficult overhang and he's          awkward and vulnerable with only one useful arm. His bad arm          catches horribly on the lip of the ledge. Suddenly he starts          coming fast, faster and then hideously, much too fast,          accelerating out of control and smashing into the water with          deadly force.                          CUT TO:                                                            INT. UNDERWATER. DAY.                                                            We're underneath, deep in the pool, and he crashes in an          explosive cascade of air forced into the water.                          CUT TO:                                                            EXT. C/U: DAY.                                   His feet gently touch the sandy floor, 10ft to the side of          the pool...                          CUT TO:                                   EXT. POOL. DAY                                   ... he's a great climber and even in his present condition          has perfectly executed the descent. And the pool is a puddle,          swimming with dead leaves and insects, 2 inches deep at most.          He falls on it with his bottles, filling them and dipping his          mouth into the water, He washes his head, drinks and fills,          drinks and gargles, and drinks again-insects, leaves,          tadpoles, everything. Blood splashes in beside him so out          comes his map again as he plots his way out. He sees a great          goose- necked avenue before him bending to the right.           71.                                                            Checking the map... there's a long way to go and he's small,          nothing in this landscape.                          CUT TO:                                   EXT. (VARIOUS)CANYON. DAY.                                   He walks shedding any weight that might reduce how long he          can keep going; his equipment, carabiners, headphones; his          harness left like a spent snake skin behind him. He keeps to          the shadows of the huge Monument Valley-like cliffs when he          can.                          CUT TO:                                                            EXT. HORSESHOE CANYON. DAY.          Finally, he comes to the great gallery that we saw in the          opening titles. A 300ft huge wall with dozens of broad          shouldered figures painted to enormous scale in all shades of          tan and maroon. They seem to stare back at him. He salutes          them in his own way and continues.                                   He banks left beneath a colossal alcove high up in the cliff          face and makes to the flattest ground - there's no shade to          hide in here.                          CUT TO:                                                            EXT. HORSESHOE CANYON. DAY.                                   70 yards ahead, 3 aliens are walking away from him. 2 tall,          one shorter. All with elongated bodies and tiny heads,          shimmering in the heat.                                                                                     He goes to shout but his voice catches. Then a feeble effort          is lost in the vast scale of the canyon. The figures walk on          bending and disappearing in the light. He digs deep.                          ARON           HELP!                                   And the figures turn.          There's a terrible pause of uncertainty on both sides and          then he pushes out another heartbreaking -                          ARON (CONT'D)           HELP ME! I NEED HELP!          The figures begin to run towards him. We watch his face in          close up as they come. If tears come, then now they come at          the sight of humans. He mutters to himself.           72.                                                                            ARON (CONT'D)           Hang in there Aron.          At they get closer he summons a surge of energy from          somewhere.                          ARON (CONT'D)           My name is Aron Ralston. I was           trapped by a boulder on Saturday           and I've been without food and           water for 5 days. I cut my arm off           this morning to get free and I've           lost a lot of blood. I need medical           attention.                                   There's a pause as they look at this refugee from a low          budget horror movie. He hungrily eyes the water bottles          attached to their waist bands. This gives them a way in to          his world. The moment is broken by their offering him their          water. It pours down his throat bypassing the swallow          mechanism.                                                   CUT TO:                                                            INT. TV STUDIO. DAY. ERIK MEJER TESTIMONY                                    (Erik's English is almost           perfect, although           accented and without           humour. His family sit           beside him on comfortable           chairs in a TV studio.           They are very pleased to                          BE THERE)                          ERIK           We are the Mejers from Holland. At           the start of the trailhead we           talked to a ranger who told us           about a car that was parked in the           area already for several days and           that the owner might be missing in           the canyon. We joked that we would           keep our eyes open and that we           would try to find him.           After a hike of 5.3 kilometres to           the Great Gallery (Indian rock art)           where we took some pictures, we           returned and suddenly heard a noise           behind us, and after that a voice           that cried "Help, I need help".           Monique and I immediately realized           that this had to be the missing           person.                          (MORE)           73.                                                   ERIK (CONT'D)           We didn't find him, he found us!           We gave him our water and Oreos.                          CUT TO:                                                            EXT. HORSESHOE CANYON. DAY.          Back now live as Aron wolfs down the cookies and organises          the Mejers in a series of jump cuts pushing us through the          final stages-he's brutally practical.                          ERIK           We are the Mejers from Holland.           You should stop and rest.                          ARON           No, we need to keep hiking.           We need a helicopter - who can run           fastest?- You, go now fast. Take           him.                                                                                     Monique runs ahead with Andy, her son.                          ERIK           They told us you were here.                                                   ARON           Who? Who told you?                          ERIK           The police at the parking lot                          ARON           Do you have a phone?                          ERIK           There's no signal for miles.          Nobody for 6 days and then like London buses another couple          appears. They too are confronted by:                          ARON           Do you have a cell phone?                          WAYNE           No. I'm Wayne. I have some medical           training.                          ARON           Is it ok for me to drink so much           water?           74.                                                                            WAYNE           Sure so long as it doesn't make you           vomit.          Aron drinks more and more, he overhears...                          WAYNE (CONT'D)                          (TO ERIK)           Make sure he doesn't pass out.                          ARON           I gotta stop and empty my shoes.           You'll have to tie my shoe lace.          As he sits his head slumps forward. He's absolutely          motionless. Wayne and Erik try to talk to him but he can          barely hear them. A pop song spins round and round distantly.                                   He strains to pull his head up, and, staring, drops forward          to his knees. There it is. Filling his vision like a god.          Whirling screaming in front of him, dust blasting him as he          kneels. A HELICOPTER.                          CUT TO:                                                            EXT. HELICOPTER. DAY.          A strange slightly formal man pops out of the helicopter. He          almost looks like he's part of the Matrix.                          PILOT           Are you Aron?                                                   ARON           Yes I am. Can I get a lift?                                                   CUT TO:                                   EXT. HELICOPTER. DAY.                                   Aron looks at the beautiful white leather seat before he gets          in the back of the helicopter. Surreal. It's a startling          contrast to his Frankenstein, and even now it's not lost on          him.                          ARON           I'm gonna make a terrible mess of           your seat.                          PILOT           Just get in buddy. We're all           looking for you.                                   The helicopter sucks upwards into the sky leaving Wayne,          Monique, Andy and Erik far below.           75.                                                                                                                             _____________________________________________________________                                                                                                                              1000 HOURS LATER                          CUT TO:                                   INT. UNDERWATER. DAY.                                   Underwater. A figure dives in, pulling strong breast strokes          down and towards us. Its Aron, fully recovered after surgery.          Eyes open, he pulls and pulls down through crystal clear,          oxygenated water.                          INTERCUT WITH:                                                            EXT/INT. HOSPITAL ROOM. DAY.                                   As the helicopter and gurney staff transfer him into the          medic room he's surrounded by vertical giants as he lies          horizontal for the first time in 6 days.                          ARON           Thank you for bringing me back.          The most senior of the burly men says,                                                   BURLY MAN           That's all your miracle days used           up kid. You need to rest. You can           stand everyone a beer later.          Aron is greeted by medics. Needles. Care. Machines. Tubes.                          ARON           Will you look after this for me           please?                                   He opens his fist and there is the small folded up knife.                          CUT TO:                                                            INT. UNDERWATER. DAY.          He pulls again releasing a huge chunk of air into a metallic          bubble.                                                   CUT TO:           76.                                                            INT. HOSPITAL ROOM. DAY.          A very soft voice reading.                          VOICE (MOM)           ...his love, the peace that passeth           all understanding...                                                   ARON           Mom.                          MOM           My boy. My only one. There you are.          She strokes his head so gently.                                                   ARON           Hey Mom.                          MOM           How are you feeling?                                                   ARON           OK. Are you okay...                                                   MOM           You've been asleep for 2 days. We           are so lucky...          She's a decent woman and a devoted mum. She looks weary, worn          out with worry and love for her boy.                          ARON           Mom, I'm sorry I scared you.                                   Very soft voice (again) - Aron hears the same words as he          drifts back into drugged rest.                                                   VOICE (MOM)           ...his love, the peace that passeth           all understanding...                          CUT TO:                                   INT. UNDERWATER. DAY.                                   Face underwater. Pull and kick. Wanting oxygen now.                          INTERCUT WITH:                                   INT. PRESS CONFERENCE. DAY.           (all of this without                          SOUND)                                   Flash of celebrity. His first press conference. And boy, is          there a lot of press there!           77.                                                            Aron, of course has his camera with him as he walks out and          takes a snap of the noise and light. We see his still, it's          floor to ceiling, wall to wall journalists.                          CUT TO:                                                            EXT. POOL. DAY.          We can see him beneath, swimming along the floor of the pool,          like a diver building lung capacity.                          CUT TO:                                                            EXT. VAST CROWD. STADIUM. NIGHT.          The vast crowd again, floodlit, ready to begin their evening.                          CUT TO:                                                            INT. ARON'S TRUCK. NIGHT.          In Aron's 4 x 4 somewhere in the endless parking lot outside          the stadium. Rana is wearing glasses, reading an SMS she's          just received.                          RANA           OK - he's got 3 vegetarian hotdogs           and the tickets and he'll be           outside Gate 6 in 5.                          ARON           So are you guys ok with me?                          RANA           Yeah. We split up a while back when           you were in hospital.                          ARON           Christine told me.                                                   RANA           (always to the point)           Is that what this is about?                                                   ARON           Yeah.                                   She laughs at him.                          RANA           What about the climbing?          Aron reaches in his bag and pulls out his scary looking          prosthetic arm / axe. He clinks the points together. She          doesn't laugh, maybe a smile.           78.                                                                            RANA (CONT'D)           Solo?                          ARON           I'm gonna finish the 49ers this           winter or next.                                                   RANA           (to change it)           Well, all I can't figure out is           what took you so long to cut it off           and get one of these.          They both laugh. But he also answers.                                                   ARON           Rana, before I did it I was           hallucinating, I saw this child, a           little blond boy -                          RANA           (over her glasses)           Not Jesus please...                          ARON                                    No, he looked like my cousin           Charlie but way too young... and I           didn't know why but I knew he was           mine and that this was what lay in           front of me.          He looks at her.                                   Pause.          She doesn't say anything.                                                   ARON (CONT'D)           But it's not going to be you, is           it?                          RANA           No Aron, it's not.                          ARON                          (HE KNOWS)           OK.          Rana leans over and tenderly kisses his cheek.                          RANA           You know, everyone who cares for           you, a little bit of them dies each           time you go back.                                   Before he can work out how to answer she breaks the door          open.           79.                                                                            RANA (CONT'D)           Let's go hero. If they do The Fly           first and we miss it we'll never be           forgiven.                                   EXT. CONCERT. NIGHT.                                   The concert explode into life.          THE POP SONG PLAYS OVER:          ` A man will rise, A man will fall...                                                            INT. UNDERWATER. DAY.          His face pushing for the surface. He surges up and out of the          water, to cling by his elbows on the side of the pool. No          prosthetic.                                                            SONG CONTINUES OVER:          ...From the sheer face of love                                   Like a fly from a wall'                                                                                                     CUT TO:                                   EXT. POOL. DAY.                                                            There in front of him on the grass by the pool is the same          sofa as in the canyon. On it and around it, his friends and          family, including Rana. There's so many of them they fill the          screen. Tucked deep into the sofa, is his son giggling away.          They smile, simple, silent support for him. He looks right          back at them.                                    THE END